SAGA BERRY-LOPEZ AND FABRAY (in English)
by SeteEntediados
Summary: The story of Rachel, Santana and Quinn's youth.
1. INTRO

"**SAGA BERRY-LOPEZ AND FABRAY" was originally written in 2010-2011 in Portuguese**

**This chapter is an introduction of the main characters, so you could get a bit more acquainted with the universe in which this story is situated. Hope you guys enjoy my fic!**

…

**RACHEL**

Every time I sign my name, I put a gold star next to it. It's a metaphor, and metaphors are important. The star symbolizes my destiny to be a great Broadway actress. I will play all the finest parts and the iconic characters the world's best musicals; Fanny Brice, Evita, Sally Bowles, Roxie Hart, all the great heroines and, maybe, some awesome villains. To make it happen, I have had a well defined plan since I was three: I would be a top student at school with stunning grades, do extracurricular activities, dance, drama and voice lessons. My dads, of course, provide me everything, so all I really needed was a place or a special group in order to have my chance to shine.

I have always believed that school choirs have a greater range than the community theater in Lima. The community theater only performs in the neighborhood, while there are national competitions for glee clubs. That's why I have always been so active in our glee club. I believe that I'm a rather benevolent person because the only requirement I made for my fellow glee clubbers is that each one must play their roles well and, more importantly, not bother me.

The choir is also a way to get out of Lima and travel to other cities, and even other states. It is my chance to show the directors of the Julliard that my talent is one of a kind. I have this dream where I shine in the center of the stage, receiving applause and accolades after a well-executed performance. Then, a Juilliard agent will stand up from the audience, find me on the backstage and give me an invitation into the best art school in the world. Of course, I have a plan B if Juilliard, in some bizarre way, lets me slip through its fingers; I would join The Tisch School of the Arts from New York University. My qualifications can demand nothing less than that.

On my way to stardom, it would naturally arise that several people who will want to write about me. There are so many formats in which my story can be shared that I think it's only responsible and thoughtful of me to meticulously and openly document the early start of my career for those who seek to research me from my humble beginnings in Ohio. I'm Rachel Barbra Berry-Lopez and this is the story of my youth…

…

**SANTANA**

I don't like to think that much about the future. My goal in life has always been to help my best friend, Brittany, survive the cruel world of hormonal teenagers of that infested school. Let's be frank; schools are like time bombs and we're all just one tick away from exploding. In high school, Darwin's manifesto of "survival of the fittest" becomes alarmingly obvious; the strong (popular) crush the weak (geeks). Intelligence is not appreciated, so you need invest in athletics and get on any team. Literally, any one. The important thing is to have the right to wear that fucking letterman jacket and parade the school halls. It might be a bit superficial, which it really is, but that's high school.

If I could get through this chaotic hole with Britt, then I will have reached my goal. After that? Whatever! Maybe I'd marry an NFL player to ensure a life of comfort. A part of me wants a future with Britt, but I try to block that thought out. If I would let my friends with benefits relationship with her turn into something more, people will judge us, and maybe even try to hurt us, like it happens with my dads sometimes. So I have to stop thinking about this and just find myself a nice rich man to start my future with.

Maybe I could support my younger twin sister, Rachel. She's full of lofty dreams to be achieved by a planned schedule in a grandiose fashion that will probably never happen. As if we could control the events in our life. If Rachel makes it work, she will be the most unbearable individual among all humans. If she fails, she will be the most miserable. And it's no use talking to her about the real world and how things work here; her head won't come out of the clouds.

At most, I only think about surviving this hellhole and ensuring that the people I love remain standing. My name is Santana Liza Berry-Lopez and this is the story of my youth…

…

**QUINN**

Since I was very little, I have always been taught that a woman should act a certain way. My family taught me that I needed to be beautiful, popular, marry a rich man, and make sure that my future kids are created according to the centuries-old traditions. After all, I am a Fabray and we are traditionalists who will do whatever it takes to keep our status with the high-class, WASP-y Christian society of the great United States of America. That's just the way we believe things should be, nothing less than the best can be accepted according to our standards. We are a highly respected Christian family, as my father likes to remind me daily.

How could I fight my destiny? How could I go against things that have been dictated my whole life? After being told what's expected of you for years, you end up believing that there isn't another good life beyond the traditions instilled in you. Or you end up thinking that the life that they've dreamed for you isn't that bad, even if it doesn't fit you the best or isn't what you'd imagined for yourself. In order for me to feel peace about my life, I would have to hide and push many things about the real me into the background. Maybe I will be able to push them so deep, that my true self would never come out. That would be a relief.

My name is Lucy Quinn Fabray and this is the story of my youth…

…

**RACHEL**

I am daughter of two fathers who had a beautiful and inspiring relationship. Daddy, Hiram Joel Berry, is Jewish, a botanist, who's a teacher at the local community college. He's very kind, sensitive and he shares his passion for music with me. He was the one who introduced me to the extraordinary talent of Barbra Streisand. He always has been such a fan of her that he decided to pay homage to her when he chose my middle name. Daddy has very sophisticated tastes, especially when it comes to music. He also likes classical and jazz music. I attribute this to the influence of bubbee.

Daddy married a young doctor who was a surgical intern in Cleveland Metropolitan Hospital: Dr. Juan Lopez. Not legally, of course. Same sex marriage was not allowed in any part of the United States at the time. Still, they held a symbolic ceremony and tried to take steps that would provide notarial rights and guarantees, like inheritance.

Papá is almost the opposite of daddy. Papá is a tall Chilean, has dark skin, is athletic, successful and strangely conservative. He's the kind of man that makes women gasp with his dark and handsome looks and his charming personality. He had many girlfriends, but fate is a funny thing and can be tricky. He met daddy on college, they became friends and, with time, Papá discovered that he was attracted to women and men. My father loves to watch sports on TV. He is a former athlete – a football player, specifically – who played three seasons as a halfback for the Buckeyes. Despite the appreciation for stadiums, lawn and truculence, papá is a sensitive man. He plays guitar and sings fairly well. He is the one who taught me to appreciate the best of rock'n'roll.

One day, my fathers decided they wanted a big family. The plan was to have their own biological kids and after that, maybe, adopt one more. Therefore, they spent two years saving money and researching for a smart and beautiful woman to serve as the biological mother/donor. They found the perfect woman while she was working as a waitress in Cleveland. They mixed their semen for in-vitro fertilization because they didn't want to know who would be the biological father. You know the story: the sperm hit the egg and the result of this process was born on December 19, 1994. Here I am!

But the in-vitro process had complications, at least in my point of view. Unfortunately, another fertilized egg generated my evil twin sister: Santana Berry-Lopez. She is a part of the cheerleading squad at school and she's the second-in-command. The captain of the cheerleadersis the school's queen bee, Quinn Fabray. The entire squad hates me for some reason and often ends up throwing slushies in my face every day and calling me names. Quinn is the worst of all and Santana has never made an effort to stop it. My sister never threw a slushie at me. But on the other hand, she gladly contributed to the abundant list of names they'd call me. Of course, when she's not offending me, she is ignoring me through the halls and she never speaks to me in class. I know she has made one requirement in my favor: nobody at school is allowed to lay a finger on me. The reason was nothing noble: she claimed to be the only one who could beat me.

And she hits me. Or at least she tries to every time I dare enter her room without an arduous prior negotiation. I can defend myself, thank you very much, but Santana is physically stronger and a little taller. She always finds a way to immobilize me and forces me to apologize. But every single time she wants my iPod, camera, computer or anything needed at the time and is too lazy to think where she left her own stuff, I have to lend them to her. In the "Satan" logic, she had that right for being the oldest one (for 29 minutes). The only things that she never takes from me are my clothes and shoes because she considers them hideous.

Santana never looks herself in the mirror. Truth be told: the Cheerio uniform saves her from the constraints of fashion. At home, she wears shirts with band names and old pajamas. When she goes out for parties, she always wears low-cut clothes just to look good for Noah and Brittany. Santana doesn't know, but several people at the school know that she and Brittany are kind of girlfriends though nobody has the courage to say that out loud because San is too high on the social pyramid. Brittany and Santana have sex at home, especially when Papá is at work. Daddy pretends not to see. Sometimes I see them making out in the pool.

Honestly, Santana has an overly active sex life. My parents gave up scolding her and started to ensure that she didn't get pregnant or contract STDs. Papá demands that she gets tested every six months, especially because her sexual partners, Brittany and Noah, also had other sexual partners. It's a shame and a mess. That's why Papá gives us condoms every month. As if it weren't enough, Santana still had a diaphragm and spermicide in her bag because it seems Noah didn't like wearing a condom every time and my sister isn't into pills.

There are also some rules. Boys can't sleep at our house (although this doesn't apply to Brittany). That's why Santana only lets Noah stay over when my parents are out. I've never seen her leading someone other than Noah and Brittany into her room. Santana always said she never refuses someone, that's why I have this theory she hooked up with these "lovers" at school.

My parents don't have this problem with me and if it would up to me and my disciplined nature, they never will have the displeasure. Of course you can never be cautious enough, so I also have condoms in my nightstand drawer and in my bag. One of my plans is to lose my virginity during college. And there are some requirements for my future lover: he must be a stunning and charming student performing arts that will cross me at the corridors of the dormitory. It has been decided, though not stated. The alternative would be losing my virginity to a fellow cast member the night I will have received an Oscar.

The Berry-Lopez house is located in a high middle class neighborhood in Lima, Ohio. Santana enjoys saying that we live in Lima Heights Adjacent so she could have the image of a person who grew up on the tough side of town. She's a liar. Our neighborhood is literally on the opposite side of town and we only go to Lima Heights Adjacent when we would visit our abuela.

My house is not a mansion in the classic sense. But yes, it's big enough to have a pool, and a pool house. The Berry-Lopez parties usually are all at the pool house, which is good because it keeps the main house free of extraneous clutter. I should also mention the small greenhouse where Daddy takes care of his plants. Santana loves helping him, but if I tell anyone about it, I'd be dead. She has to be a badass, and badasses don't grow flowers.

Despite coming from a Catholic family, Papá doesn't follow any religion, but he respects Christian traditions and he doesn't care to participate in the most important Jewish holidays. Santana and I are Jewish and we speak Hebrew just enough to make our grandparents happy. Santana speaks Spanish perfectly and she and my father often communicate in Spanish. I also speak Spanish well enough to get around and communicate what I'm thinking. Papá always make fun of Daddy because he gets so lost when the Lopezes get together, mainly birthday parties, since he can't speak a word of Spanish.

At McKinley High, I have established a daily routine, which consists of taking in the name-calling, slurs and slushies. The only people I can call my friends are the New Directions, the students in our school's glee club. It's a bad name, I know, and constantly we are called "New Erections" or "No Directions" by the other students. However I'm very proud of our strong team: me, Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Finn, Matt, Mike, Noah, Santana, Quinn and Brittany.

Quinn joined the glee club because she wanted to keep an eye on Finn, who was her boyfriend at the time, and she dragged Santana and Brittany along. Finn and I made a spectacular pair. Not that he's an exceptional singer, but he has a beautiful timbre. Finn improves substantially when he sings with me and his voice balances well with mine when we duet. Our natural musical partnership soon started to become more romantic than purely professional, which impacted the group in a more positive way, I think. Quinn could not stand the idea of her boyfriend being paired with someone who is clearly more talented and with more drive than she could ever dream of having.

I'm curious to know how Quinn blackmailed Santana into joining glee club. The two weren't really friends, they still aren't. They have always walked together at school for convenience and because social stigma dictated it. Both are top Cheerios and exceed all of the other girls in terms of popularity (and notoriety). Santana's only true friend always has been Brittany ever since we were kids. Britt spent the afternoons with us and we loved play together around the pool with our toys, or simply running and dancing. When puberty arrived, Santana begun liking to be alone with her and suddenly I was left out. My sister hates having me around and tells me to go to my room to do homework or anything else far away from whatever she and Brittany are doing.

It took me a long time to understand the reason for this break. I spent some time hating Brittany for stealing Santana from me. But the ditzy blonde is a creature too kind to loathe so instead I started to blame and hate Santana most of the time.

Unlike Santana, I never took friends back home before joining the New Directions. I like to tell myself that I was too preoccupied in my extracurriculars to have much, if any, time for friends. Seems reasonable.

Before moving on in this story, it's good contextualizing these events properly. It all started when New Directions was formed...

...

**Author notes:**

**Thanx Iaraglee for translate it in spanish and a special thanx to my BETAs.**

**Music of INTRO: "Sunday Night Blues" – Garotas Suecas.**


	2. S1- Celibacy Club

"**SAGA BERRY-LOPEZ AND FABRAY" was originally written in 2010-2011 in Portuguese**

**...**

**CELIBACY CLUB**

**(Quinn)**

Sex. That's a delicate issue in my life. Like every girl, I have doubts about the first time. Would it hurt? When was the right time? Would I feel comfortable being naked in front of someone else? How should I talk about protection with my partner? On the other hand, there was all the curiosity to experiment, especially after watching porn videos on internet that one night alone in my bedroom. I blame Finn Hudson. I thought something was wrong with me because I've never gotten horny when we do stuff and I assumed I was just a frigid bitch, like as Santana accused me once.

I found myself very turned on by porn videos. Most of them were rude and disgusting in any combination. However, I saw one that showed two girls having sex as if they really liked each other; I think it's called femme-friendly porn. It looked so smooth and pleasurable and it made me wonder. If I was turned on by this, clearly there was nothing wrong with me so Finn had to be the problem, even if he was a good guy.

I didn't want to stay with him: I didn't like him, I didn't want to be touched by him. But it was necessary to stay in this relationship. Let's face it: I need to have a boyfriend so my parents won't think something is wrong with me. My relationship was one of the few good points of the constant comparisons that my father did with Frannie, my older sister. Since she moved last summer to Austin for the college, my father had openly discussed how much he wished for Frannie to be around and how he longed for things to be like "the good old days." Frannie was his favored and perfect daughter while I was the disappointment from the cradle.

When I was born in Cincinnati on July 10, 1994, the event was a double disappointment. First: I was a girl and my father wanted a boy. Second: my mother had pregnancy complications that precluded having more children. Adoption was taboo and my father was suspected of unfaithful in his marriage, but he wasn't the type of a guy that had children with the women involved in his affairs. Making matters worse, I could never compete with Frannie: I was a chubby, introverted child, hated football and baseball, and I enjoyed my camera more than boys... or people in general.

While Frannie was home, my father had eyes only for her. But now she was in college and I was at home. It seemed that my father had no alternative but paying attention to me. Dad was glad I had not wasted the legacy left to me by my sister at McKinley: the command of the Cheerios. Frannie taught me how to be a cold manipulative bitch and get what I want. Now, I had to keep my popularity and the key was Finn Hudson.

Unfortunately I'd rather be touched by Jack Torrance than Finn Hudson. I didn't want to move things forward. I couldn't. Finn didn't push me, but I felt I had to do something to keep him interested and, at the same time, away from certain parts of me. How? The answer came in a special sermon for teens in my church. The minister encouraged and supported waiting to have sex until marriage. He advocated the creation of clubs and pacts between friends to reinforce the idea that sex should be practiced only in marriage under God's blessing.

It took a day to make my plan and poured the novelty in the first week of my sophomore year.

"Celibacy Club?" Santana asked, puzzled. "What the hell is a fucking Celibacy Club? There's nothing stupider than a Celibacy Club to hormonal teenagers!"

"The Cheerios are recognized as a group of prostitutes who serve the athletes here. As captain, I want to change it. So, we'll call the main Cheerios to join the meetings. I'll be in charge of spreading Christian values and establish rules. We will also have meetings with the boys," I explained calmly.

"I'm Jewish ..." Santana said, still puzzled, "and I am not a virgin. I lost it a few months ago and you know that. Actually, you must be the only sophomore Cheerio that still is virgin."

"That doesn't mean you can't join the group and renounce a life of sin."

"Are you nuts?"

"If you don't do it, I will ask Coach Sylvester to revoke your privileges as second in command."

"Quinn Fabray still plays dirty..." Santana crossed her arms, "it's been awhile."

"Can I count on you or not?"

"After asking so politely, how could I refuse?"

"Great!" I smirked, "I knew you would understand my point of view."

"You always have good arguments."

"Today, while I helping the coach to organize the selection of recruits, you will call the other girls. Our meetings will take place twice a week after classes and before football practice."

I know Santana hates me. I can't blame her. If I was in her shoes, I would hate me too. These are things that come with power. And I know Santana won't try to pull me down because her popularity and current privileges are tied to my leadership. At least for now. Santana made a deal with me last year to protect Brittany. While I have the full confidence from Coach Sylvester and I'm known for keeping my alliances, I will be on top. That was how it worked in the social hierarchy at McKinley High.

"Hello hot stuff," Puck said as he mischievously approached and kissed Santana square on the lips. I don't know what happened to these two, but they certainly seemed to have seen each other a good bit over the holiday. I know were looking cozy at Azimio's party three weeks ago. Maybe they agreed to act as a couple at school, which would be very strange given Puck's reputation. "Any plans for tonight?" he said in a lecherous way.

"I'll let you know if I am in the mood," Santana sneered. Maybe they're not dating for real.

"Ouch! Did you wake up in the wrong side of the bed?"

"Fuck off, asshole ..." Santana pushed him and went to class.

"What's going on?" He turned to me.

"She's just being Santana."

"Okay, if she doesn't want, then I'm free. Would like a date, miss Fabray?" Puck was a jerk, an incorrigible womanizer.

"You do understand I have a boyfriend, right? And he's one of your best friends."

"Finn? The way you deal with him doesn't seem like you're so interested. But I can give you a good time. I'm sure you'll love it."

"I don't think so."

"You won't find out until you try ..." he grinned a cretin smile and walked out like a boss.

This approach confirmed that I was on Puck's list, just as the gossips had said. On the other hand, who wasn't a gossip at that school? I was sure Puck fucked everything that had a vagina. If the crazy Suzy Pepper opened her legs, he'd be in.

On the other hand, Puck had more charm and appeal than my own boyfriend. Frannie said it is better to lose your virginity to that kind of a guy because he knows how to do right. Who knows? Maybe Puck is the right guy to cure this itch and my bad desire to try girls, especially Rachel Berry-Lopez? I will have sex some day, and I think Puck is a better choice than Finn Hudson. I remember how disgust I was when Finn ejaculated in the hot tub last weekend. I get chills just thinking that my skin had contact with his semen through the water. But Finn was the new "face" and "hero" of McKinley High.

I spotted Finn entering the halls in his red letter coat. I forced a smile. He was my man, right?

"Hello!" I faked enthusiasm and kissed him. "Don't you look handsome with this jacket."

"And you are as beautiful as ever in this uniform."

We held hands and walked to first period. I saw a great opportunity to tell him my news.

"I just chatted with the girls this morning and we'll be starting a Celibacy Club. Isn't that wonderful?"

"You what?" Finn was shocked.

"Celibacy Club. I'll be the president," I informed with all my sweetness.

"What does that mean?" Now Finn was confused. He looked around and lowered his voice, "that we will never ..."

"It means there are limits," I said seductively. "We can kiss, exchange caresses," I pressed my index finger lightly on my boyfriend's chest and drew patterns with it on top of his t-shirt. "But we only have sex after wedding!" And I walked away resolutely. "Our generation is headed towards a dark place, Finn, and we need to be the spark of resistance to maintain family and Christians values. We should obey what the Bible says."

"Okay?"

"I'll tell you when it happens the first meeting."

"What ... but?"

"Of course you will give me all the support I need as good boyfriend."

"Of course!" Finn couldn't be more confused.

"Great!" I gave him a peck.

...

**(Rachel)**

The first week of school should be like January 1st: World Peace Day. Everybody is still recovering from a drunken night and silence reigns, mainly because everyone is hungover and extra sensitive. Not at William McKinley High; the battlefield on campus was constant. Starting with the bad news I heard first thing this morning: Sandy Ryerson was still head of glee club. Not for long, I swore to myself. If he continued to ignore me, maybe I will visit the principal and enlighten him on how Mr. Ryerson was trying to get into Hank Saunders' pants since last semester.

But not now. First I needed to change my clothes because of a lemon slushie. If I had to choose, it was my favorite slushie because it didn't have enough dye to stain my clothes. I grabbed my backpack from my locker and pulled out the spare shirt I stored there. I passed by the gross "Fuinn" couple in the hall and rolled my eyes. I had no patience for them, especially her. The only place Quinn Fabray ever left me alone was in my house when Santana held parties at our house. There, she couldn't call me "Ru Paul", "Man Hands", "Treasure Trail", "Stubbles" and "That Thing". Did I forgot some?

When I entered the usual bathroom, I was surprised to see it occupied by an Asian girl in gothic clothes. She must be a freshman because I've never seen her at school, unless she was a mysterious member of the skanks.

"You're lucky. Your clothes won't be stained!" said, making small talk as the lemon slushie continued to saturate my clothes.

"How do you know?"

"Lemon slushie. My friend Artie told me."

"Freshman?" I asked. She nodded. "Nice to meet you, I'm Rachel Berry-Lopez," I reached out and she accepted my handshake.

"Tina Cohen-Chang."

I went back to the sink to wash my face.

"Artie said the grape slushie is the worst," she noted while offering me paper towels. "They always attack with grape or raspberry when you wear white clothes."

"I hadn't noticed!" I took another good look at the girl. "This is why you dressed in black? To avoid grape slushies?"

"Oh no! I have a certain look I'm going for," Tina said seriously and I could hardly believe I was being snubbed by a freshman.

"Well... as long as you're happy with your style," I retorted with cynicism. "It's important to have one."

Tina left from the bathroom with a scowl on his face. Glad. Was not one of the best first impression, I had to admit. I finished cleaning myself up and put my best Rachel Berry-Lopez smile on my face. There was a battlefield waiting for me out of that bathroom and I was determined to power through thanks to my talent.

...

**(Santana)**

I hated Quinn Fabray. I hated her with all my might. Only a prudish, false-moralistic twat would found a fucking celibacy club. It was embarrassing having to break the news to the other girls in the first week of class.

My bad mood was even greater because I hadn't seen my Brittany yet. Her family spent over a month in California. Mister P, a journalist and cartoonist, went to Comic-Con in San Diego and signed a contract to do a special project for the Los Angeles Times. Brittany couldn't explain it very well, but I think he'll write a comic in a similar style to Joe Sacco. I knew Brittany arrived home last night, but I was unable to talk to her. I barely spoke with anyone during vacation. By the time I had come home from Chile, Brittany had left to travel to California with thousands of miles separating us for the duration of the summer. I ended up spending the rest of my summer break with Puckerman and he was more interested in certain parts of my body than in being my friend.

I crossed paths with Brittany in the hall between classes right before the lunch break. My heart jumped. She was beautiful with her new haircut. Now she has longer bangs to be put aside. It was chic. We hugged in the middle of the corridor.

"I missed you," I said softly in her ear. I wanted to kiss her, but we couldn't.

"Me too."

I raised my pinky and she linked it with hers. I would love to talk more with her, but I still had to talk to the other Cheerios about Fabray's latest crazy order. I thought skipping a class sounded more appealing at this point; anything to spent extra time with my Britt Britt.

"Didn't see you first thing this morning in our usual spot," I said.

"I woke up a little late."

"How were things in California?"

"It was incredible. Mama took me to watch a dance performance. They had amazing choreography. And I took a two-week class with one of the companies. I can show a few steps I learned to the Cheerios."

"I'm sure the coach will approve. You're perfect." My admiration for her talent was genuine. That always brought good memories. "I was thinking ... how about we take a little time to spend time in our special place? Make up for lost time?"

"I'd love to."

Hormonal kids go to the janitor's closet for quickies. That place was much like an express whorehouse: a couple goes there, do stuff and then the space turns over to the next in line. Brittany didn't deserve such a place and I was much smarter than that - people also got caught there a lot.

I took my girl to the ballet room, which was only used after classes. Much better. The only problem was I was skipping another geek class. My parents swore to ground me if I failed another class like I had last semester. Well, I am a natural with math and I should go to the class with the super-geeks because the regular school program doesn't challenge me but I don't want to do the work since it gets in the way with my social life. Nobody knows I'm crazy good with numbers - except Rachel, Brittany and the other five guys of that class, including Mike Chang, I have just deal with it or else they could ruin my reputation. Patience.

Britt and I didn't do much. Just some sweet lady kisses and girl talk. We left the ballet room and went directly to the cafeteria, when I broke the news to the others Cheerios. They freaked out, of course. But I didn't care; my mission for the day was complete.

I went home with my sister by bike. We were 15 and half and my fathers told us our birthday gift would be a car. Until then, Rachel and I biked when I wasn't able to arrange a ride with Matt Rutherford, the one who lived closest to our neighborhood.

"How strange," Rachel said when we saw both my father's cars at that time of the day.

We left our bikes in the garage and went into the kitchen. I did not expect to find daddy there with a creepy smile. Bad sight.

"Hi daddy," I said. "What's up?"

"Something happened, Dad?" - Rachel asked beside me.

"Nothing special happened. Why do you think so?"

I wasn't liking his tone. It smelled problem and a potential sermon whatever the reason was.

"Seriously, daddy. What happened?" I insisted.

"Stay calm, because everything is okay." I shrugged and went to my room. "Except one small detail," he said before we had a chance to leave the kitchen.

"What's that?" Rachel asked.

"Your father is in the den with a calculator in hand. Would like to join us?"

Calculator in hand and a request for our presence could only mean one thing: credit card. I panicked. Rachel and I followed my dad into the library. We found Papá looking at papers, glasses on, clearly not happy.

"Sit down, girls," Papá said with a smirk on his face, which caused such fear. Rachel and I sat at the sofa and looked at each other. We were nervous. "This month's credit card statements are very interesting," he said, my blood running cold. "I was surprised when I discovered that I have a debt of nearly three thousand dollars made by the card of miss Santana Berry-Lopez and other almost two thousand dollars from miss Rachel Berry-Lopez."

"Well, Papá, I spent that money on essential things," Papá rubbed his hands. Not good.

"Likewise!" Rachel was paralyzed face with a smirk on.

"Let's start with Santana. You spent $ 347.39 at Victoria's Secret. What is essential about it?"

"My social life requires I need to be always well presented!" I explained.

"Presentable in underwear," Rachel rolled her eyes.

"So the $460.00 at GAP and $546.32 at Diesel was for the sake of your social life?" Papá continued with the frozen smirk.

"You got the spirit!" I knew a joke wouldn't save me. I just couldn't avoid them.

"What did you buy that cost $432.90 at Target?"

"My new phone and Britt's! It's her birthday in two weeks."

"And the $470.80 on Amazon?"

"Rare DVDs and CDs."

"$143.20 at Breadstix?"

"Actually is $157.52 at Breadstix counting with 10% of the tip. Puck isn't a gentleman and I paid for the meals. It's better than leaving the restaurant without paying..."

"Really?" Rachel stared at me. "You can just rattle off the additional tip from the top of your head?"

"I just did the math in my head."

"And you spent a little over $400 in other small shops!" Papá continued with his inquisition.

"Oh, Papá, those were for things like movies, popcorn, magazines, pizza, Chinese food, accessories, cookies that you refuse to include in the shopping list... "

"Really, Santana? Clearly that makes sense," Daddy said, voice loaded with irony.

"And you, Miss Rachel," Papá continued. "What are these charges for $1,043.90 at Amazon?"

"This was to supplement my rich collection of music, a new tripod and camera to record my clips at MySpace, and some memory cards. You shouldn't scrimp on investments when looking to build a bright career, right Daddy and Papá?"

"Um... and the $530.87?"

"Clothes!"

"She buys everything at Sears," I rolled my eyes. "That's why it's cheaper."

"You think this is a joke?" Papá fired off. "Do you think I made a fortune each paycheck or your father studied to discovered a hundred dollar bill tree? If I remember, especially with you Miss Santana, this is the third time you blew the credit card limit. That's enough and it ends here and now. I called the credit card company minutes ago and asked to reduce the limit of both cards for $300 per month."

"Papá, no!" I stood up with shock. "You'll ruin my life!"

"You'll make us go into massive debt! If you don't like your allowance, then get a job!"

It felt as if my parents threw a knife in my back and cut off my wings. It hurts. It was humiliating. Tears ran down my cheeks and I ran to my room. Life was so unfair.

"Thanks for screwing up, Satan!" I heard Rachel scream from my bedroom door.

"Fuck off, diva from hell," I shouted back .

What would I do with only $300 per month? I would have to make a reasonable financial plan to survive this.

…

**Author notes:**

**Music of CELIBACY CLUB: "First I Look At The Purse" – The Contours**


	3. S1 - Egg

"**SAGA BERRY-LOPEZ AND FABRAY" was originally written in 2010-2011 in Portuguese**

**...**

**EGG**

(Quinn)

I was naked below the waist. Puck was on the top of me doing rhythmic movements with his hips. Back and forth, back and forth. In and out, in and out. I could feel him inside, but if it was good or not, well, that's a kind of opinion I couldn't make. The alcohol confounded my mind and my body wasn't reacting as I think it should be. I needed to rearrange my ideas. Point one: I was in bed with Puck. Point two: we were having sex, obviously. Point three: that was my first time. Point four: I drank too much wine. Point five: my self-esteem was low.

How did I get from point A to point B?

Let's see, It began with the previous week events. William Schuester, the Spanish teacher, re-open the Glee Club under new management and concept after some student reported Sandy Ryerson for sexual harassment. Not that I care. That guy was a truly creeper. Mr. Schuester set up a new coral with the old presence of Rachel Berry-Lopez, plus the wheelchair's boy, the gay boy, Mercedes Jones and the freshman gothic Asian girl. What a precious combination of losers. I felt sorry for Rachel: she never attended a winning initiative.

I was kind of happy for another potential resounding failure of the number 1 diva of McKinley High. That keeps Finn far far away from her. But things changed when I went to one of the breaks and I saw Santana laughing with Brittany at a table in the outdoor courtyard.

"Hey!" – I approached the duo – "Good news?"

"Maybe" – Santana tried in vain hold on her laughter. I was officially confused.

"Did you hear about the new Glee Club? Mercedes Jones almost strangled your sister."

Santana burst out laughing again. Brittany, by then, was caring for her secret lover doesn't choke or anything.

"The Glee Club..." – Santana tried to breathe to speak – "that bunch of losers ..." – and laughed. I didn't understand what's up.

"What happened?" – I asked directly to Brittany because Santana was unable to establish a regular dialogue.

"Haven't you heard?" - Brittany smiled.

"Heard what?"

"Your boyfriend joined the choir."

"I knew he was gay!" - Santana burst out laughing again.

My world stopped. Not in a million years I could be prepared for that. Santana couldn't control her laughter. I understood why she was having so much fun. This is good for her and terrible to me. The news impact makes me unable to think fast to answer or maybe threat Santana. I was so furious. I didn't care if Finn was part of a thousand Glee Clubs and performer like a drag queen. The point was: he and Rachel Berry-Lopez were together, singing twice or three times a week for who knows how long. Rachel didn't hide the crush for my boyfriend, and Finn wasn't hard to read. He'd leave me for the first innocent pretty girl who treats him as if he was the center of universe.

"Say it's not true! Say you didn't join that group of losers!" – I shut the door of his locker in his face. He jumped back and pulled me gently to an empty room, as we talk about the most sensitive issue in the world. At that moment, it was.

"I had no choice, okay? I was forced..."

"By whom?"

"It doesn't matter. Look Quinn. That's no big. We only have a few rehearsals per week. It won't mess my football drills. And I kind of like singing."

"Finn Hudson, you have half an hour to go to that teacher and say you're out."

"Quinn… that's not possible right now, ok?"

Finn touched my arm as if he wanted to make me understood, but I left the room and slammed the door in the process. I needed to think beyond the shock. I felt anger, fear, paranoia, jealousy. I needed a contingency plan. Puck was in the right place and time when I saw him chatting with some friends. Extreme situations require drastic measures.

"Hello Puckerman" – I forced a smirk – "Could we talk in private?"

"Sure" – he put the smirk on his face as we went to a discreet corner - "What do you want, princess?"

"Finn joined the choir."

"So what if he wants to be a loser?"

"He can't. I want you to make his life a living hell to the point Finn won't see other solution but quit."

"And what do I get in return?"

"Me!"

I couldn't believe what I was doing. It was totally irrational. I had just offered myself to Noah Puckerman, the school manwhore just to keep Finn Hudson away from Rachel Berry-Lopez. The idea of seeing them together and singing to each other churned my stomach. My morale at the school would be shaken as well my popularity and my sanity. Finn could have any girl behind my back, anyone, but Rachel Berry-Lopez.

I almost sick over when I heard Finn was on a date with Rachel and the rest of the losers to attend a performance of Carmel's Glee Club. Why she appeared in my life? Why she had to study in McKinley just to torment me, to distract my thoughts and my feelings? If I hadn't come across her every day at school, so I wouldn't question my desires, my sexuality, and perhaps I would be happier having Finn. I prayed to Puck do his job right. I wished he attacked my boyfriend in a way to make him quit.

It almost happened. When Finn said he was out, for a brief moment, I was one of the happiest people in the world. I was even willing to reward my boyfriend. Perhaps I would finally allow him to touch my breasts. Maybe I'll make him happy with my hand under his pants. I could do that. But then, in the next day, I saw him talking to Rachel in the school hallways. I tried to show her who was boss. Santana even accompanied me. That's when I realized Finn changed his mind.

At the end of the week, Santana and I were walking the hallways after classes when we saw the movement of the jazz clubbers. They were loading instruments into the auditorium. Nothing interesting with that. That's when Mercedes Jones, the gay boy and the asian girl passed by us, helping to carry equipment. They were wearing red shirts, like a uniform. And they were laughing.

"Apparently the losers go up to something" – Santana said, but she didn't really care. She was indifferent to almost everything but her precious Britt, popularity and the way Puck fill her vagina up.

I warned the coach, who was not happy with the possibility to lose some school resources with that stupid Glee Club. She decided to see what was happening. Santana and I followed. We entered in the back of the auditorium and got access to the technical area where they wouldn't see us. From the balcony, we heard the music.

My heart pounded in conflict. For the first time I watched Rachel Berry-Lopez singing live. They were performing "Don't Stop Believin', by an ancient rock band Journey, with pure joy. Rachel's powerful voice invaded my ears in a pleasant way. She sounded so different than those poorly audio videos she posts on MySpace. And she was also in lovely normal clothes, with her hair loose. So beautiful. I almost lost it.

Rachel was so happy singing with my boyfriend and the others. One of my nightmares came true there. Finn seemed more accomplished dancing and singing with that egocentric diva than all the times I gave him some joy. Sooner or later, her talent would overcome my classical beauty. I lost Finn right there, I knew it.

"That's not good enough" – I tried to minimize with Santana - "Singing a bad rock song? Doing a sloppy dance? Ridiculous." – my bitch pose almost collapsed with the response from my second in command.

"I know I have to root against them because they are the losers. It's part of the school game. But my sister was amazing and they were good. They were having fun right there, and that's ok. Another thing: Don't Stop Believin isn't a bad rock song, Fabray. It's a classic."

Santana left me alone when she saw Brittany going down the hallways and ran after her. I was planted there, unable to move, without floor. I walked slowly to my locker, when I heard a group of cheerios complain about the celibacy club. They didn't notice my presence.

"We need to find a way to fight that fat bitch. I hate pretending to like her even more after that damn club" – said one. I knew they were talking about me.

"I agree about the damn club. But if is not her, who would be our captain? You?" – questioned another - "I don't think you could deal with Sylvester."

"What if we start supporting Lopez?" – said a third. I will so kill them…

I was so sick. Fat bitch? That was the last straw. I went home with serious crisis of esteem. If I had known better, I would have seen a movie an eat ice cream. Or maybe I would have chosen the classic combination: popcorn and cola-cola. The soda would be iced enough to end my throat. I would get real sick and stay away from that school for three days. But no! Instead of consuming calories and trans fat, I called Puck.

My parents were out of town. They left in the morning to a business congress in Dayton, these made especially for entrepreneurs and investors. Then they are going to stretch the trip to Cincinnati to visit my grandfather. In summary, I would be alone for the next three days.

Puck arrived with a bottle of cheap wine wrapped in a paper bag. He smirked when I opened the door.

"Hello" – he said seductive - "I knew you'd ask me sooner or later."

"Get in and please, don't speak so much."

Puck knew how to get comfortable in someone else's house. He grabbed a bottle and offered me a cup. Look: plastic cup: the first one he found in the kitchen. No wine glass, no refined atmosphere. Just an ordinary cup to put the cheap wine on while we were trying to establish a small talk.

"Why did you call me since I couldn't get Finn of the losers club?"

"Maybe I like you."

"Really?" - he smiled.

"Maybe I just want to feel good today" – I finished the first cup and filled the second time.

"Tough day?"

"Very."

"Aren't you going too fast?"

"Fast is good" - Puck stared at me. Looking at him wasn't that bad. I liked the tanned skin he got cleaning pools. Puck also had a beautiful and strong body for a 17 year old. Although there were rumors he took steroids.

Puck closed distance and kissed me. He knew what how to do stuff. I was feeling good and I just kept making out and drinking some more. I didn't mind when he touched my breasts. I needed to feel wanted somehow. I felt a good shiver as he lay on me and started to stroke my legs slowly further up until I felt his hand on my sex above my pants. That's it: the piece of meat of the night was guaranteed.

"You're wet. How about we go to your room and get more comfortable?" – he suggested, while kissing my ear and devouring my neck - "Unless you want to do it here, on this couch" - bedroom was better. I couldn't lose my virginity on the couch in the living room.

I drank more wine. My thoughts began to get blurry and it was good. Puck waited until I finish the bottle before going to bed and lay on me in the process.

"Say I'm not fat!"

"You're in great shape, babe" - he focused his attention to my legs and lead me to open them the way he could lay between.

Puck moved his pelvis against my sex and I started to feel things as never happened with Finn. I knew it's the time and so as Puck.

"Do you have protection?" - I asked when he brought his hands to take off my skirt.

"Of course" – I trusted him.

Puck pulled down my skirt and panties at once. He threw the clothes on the floor and lay back down over me, kissing my mouth, my neck, my breasts. He took off his shirt and knelt for a moment to unbutton his jeans. I saw an adult erect dick in front of me for the first time. Of course there are the internet porn videos, but seeing it few inches apart, the smelling… everything was so new.

"I bet you've never seen one like my puckssaurus" – he was really proud of his hard and big dick.

"I'm a virgin." – He wasn't looks affected with the news.

"Can you touch it?" – he guided my hand so I stroke him for a little while.

"Am I doing right?"

"Like a pro. Do you wanna try a little bit?"

"I don't know…" – I was afraid.

"That's ok, you don't need" – he touch me once more before lay down between my legs again.

My mind blurred and suddenly, there my virginity goes. And it hurt. I always heard Santana and other cheerios say that sex gets better with time. The first time is never great. My sister said something like that with different words. Anyway, my first time was definitely no big deal. It was with the school manwhore I even had any previous history but belonging to the same group of popular kids in school. The emotional bond between me and Puck was close to zero. But there we were: he was having fun with my body, saying I was pretty and thin, and I just was waiting him to finish. If my first sexual intercourse didn't provide me the physical pleasure I expected, at least it raised my esteem for feeling desired.

That was the story of how I got from point A to point B. Damn you, Rachel Berry-Lopez.

…

(Santana)

Listening Rachel is nothing new or special. I stand her voice at home in daily basis. In the bathroom, at the stairs, in the backyard, muttering in the library when we are doing the homework, not to mention the singing competitions she used to attend and my parents forced me to go. I was happy because since we started high school, she no longer had competitions and left the amateur theater club. Rachel decided to invest her efforts in social media such as Myspace. She thought she could be discovered there, like Lilly Allen and Kate Nash.

What my sister ignored is show tunes don't attract anyone. Lilly Allen made it because she created her own music, was attractive and had pop appeal. More important: she knew the right people. Seriously, what kind of appeal my sister had? Yes, I won't deny she had a beautiful voice and great technique. But she was singing the wrong songs and was as sexy as Paul Pfeiffer. No wonder the biggest Rachel's fan was Quinn Fabray. That bitch could be very creative writing offensive comments in the message space, but I had a theory that it was pure repression, or Quinn Fabray harbored a secret passion for my sister. Who knows?

The thing is: I never gave the proper value to Rachel's singing, until the day I was dragged by Quinn and coach to spy on the glee club in the auditorium. They were performing for the mites at the armchairs. The six losers sang in red shirts and jeans with the jazz club. They made a banal choreography, but still were awesome. I, Santana Lopez-Berry, never gave anything for that bunch of losers. But, at that moment, something magical happened. Rachel sang smiling. She always sang corny songs to cry in the middle. Not there. Rachel smiled and danced along with sasquatch and the four renegade misfits. God, they were awesome.

I only met Rachel that day at home. I had caught a ride with Matt and she came back with Kurt Hummel. Rachel was still dressed in red shirt and jeans when I saw her in her bedroom. I leaned against the door with my arms crossed.

"What was that, Ray?"

"That what?" - she turned toward me surprised.

"What you and your loser friends did in the auditorium?"

"You saw that?" - Rachel put her books aside and sat on the edge of the bed. I got in her room and sat down in the armchair.

"Yes. I was passing by when I saw the movement."

"I didn't see you in the audience."

"I was on the staff area up the stage"

"Oh" - she looked at me anxiously - "What did you think?"

"That was a decent job. You and Hudson make a good duo. "

"Do you think so?" - her eyes sparkles. Sometimes I forgot my sister had a crush on that idiot.

"You should dress more often as a human being" – I didn't give my opinion about her and Finn. I disliked him, as well as disliked anyone who wants to be a hero, but barely knew where is the damn nose - "If you wore like this you wouldn't take so many slushies."

"Maybe if you treat me decently in school, I would not take so many slushies."

"I know, but it is difficult deal with your annoying personality. Also, we did that deal."

"Every man for himself..." - she whispered, remembering the conversation we had last year.

"Every man for himself" – I got up from the chair, kissed my sister's forehead and went out toward my room. I needed to take that uniform of ASAP.

"Santy" - she called me by my childhood nickname. At home, we were Santy and Ray, but only at home. I would kill her if she calls me Santy in front of my friends or at school.

"What?"

"Do you think we were good? Really?"

"I wouldn't throw tomatoes on you."

Rachel knew it's just my way of saying I liked. Apparently it made her confident. As I manage my life followed the next days, my sister went up against Quinn. She even dared to invade the boring celibacy club and make a feminist bold speech I called "girls want sex, bitch". Rachel spat every word that I would have said about the uselessness of that group. If I weren't so committed to being the second in command, I would have applaud at the end, as those cliché movie scenes where somebody starts to clap slowly and it infects everyone else to take a apotheotic ovation for the protagonist's hero actions. But I just stayed silent and preferred not to comment it at home.

As I didn't mention to my parents about the first Glee Club's impacting official performance. Really? It was disturbing to see my 29 minutes younger sister dancing "Push It" as she simulating sex with Finn "Orca" Hudson. I shouldn't see that. Not at all. Rachel and I went home that day in mortal silence. She was terrified if I comment about it to our parents. But I respected our other agreement: what happens at school stays at school except if the principal call our parents or one of us came home with a black eye. Daddy and Papá don't need to have this grief. Because even if one of us started talking, the junk list will smells so badly that we would have say bye bye to our sweet 16 car and be ground for the rest of the year. It's better to remain silent and be limited to small matters as routine, grades and boring teachers.

The day after the small Glee's scandal, Dad took me early to school. He didn't like me to go out alone by bike at six in the morning. Furthermore, it was raining. When I arrived at school, still sleepy, I was approached by Quinn Fabray. She looked at me like a desperate psychotic.

"You, Brittany and I are rehearsing a number today."

"Rehearse what?"

"We are going to do an audition to enter the Glee Club" - Quinn Fabray had gone insane.

"Why would I do an audition to get into a place that I want to keep distance?"

"Your sister wants my boyfriend and I need to defend what is mine."

"Then do your shit alone. Book an audition with Mr. Schuester and sing 'Fly To The Moon' with all your shit soul."

"Well, Santana, I had this theory that gay parents produce gay children. I could use you as example, after all, you and Brittany are so close friends."

"Leave my family out of it ... and Brittany " – I held to not slap that stupid face.

"Just do me this favor."

My perplexity on Quinn Fabray kept growing. I looked around and sighed.

"One day you'll fall off the horse" - spoke in outburst.

"Maybe, but today I still am the top bitch."

"What song?"

"Say a Little Prayer For You."

"How original! You are so addict on 'My Best Friend's Wedding'."

"Thank you. I will set the audition for today after classes."

Quinn walked into the gym as if she had a king in her belly. Now I had to join the choir and have extra time standing my sister's ego and mannerisms. Worst: having to be with a bunch of kids I hate. Mercedes Jones and Kurt Hummel? Really? Not to mention Schuester was a terrible teacher. I breathed deeply. I was in my astral hell. And it even had a soundtrack.

…

**Author notes:**

**This chapter wasn't beta(ed). I am sure you found a lot of grammar mistakes, but I did my best. It's not that easy to write anything in English when I think in Portuguese.**

**Music of CELIBACY CLUB: "Don't Stop Believin" – Glee version.**


	4. S1 - Vocal Adrenaline

"_**SAGA BERRY-LOPEZ AND FABRAY" was originally written in 2010-2011 in Portuguese**_

**VOCAL ADRENALINE'S COACH**

**(Quinn)**

I would like to believe in psychics.

Imagine if there was such a medium to predict my misfortune. Pregnant, staying with a boyfriend I don't care about and living in his house with his mother who hates me, having trouble manipulating the real father of the baby, dealing with a crazy woman who wants to adopt her. The most painful fact of all: my own father disowned me and shut me out of home. I would love to have a good tarot reading rather than the lot I was dealt. I would have been skeptical of the reading if I'd had one, but at least I would have been able to feel more prepared. First of all, I wouldn't have slept with Puck. Ever. Unfortunately, there is no turning back.

The pregnancy left me in a difficult and almost hopeless position. I devoted all my time trying to save my skin with the weapons I could get. My fight against Rachel Berry-Lopez wasn't out of jealousy, possession and selfishness anymore. I had to do anything I could in order for Finn stayed by my side because I needed someone with a modicum of stability, and Puck wasn't reliable. Rachel still wanted Finn, everybody knew it, but I couldn't allow that to happen because I would be helpless and totally alone.

Of course, I was unable to maintain and internalize this catastrophic situation for long. The final blow was ironically struck by Rachel. I fell in her trap when she said Jew babies could be born with a certain genetic abnormality. I panicked because, after all, I loved my baby and wanted her to born healthy. I was a fool.

Among tears and despair, curious things started to happen. I, Quinn Fabray, former captain of the Cheerios and former popular girl, a\the lowest of the low. I was reduced to nothing. So I stayed calm to face reality: I was just a Jane Doe, pregnant at 16, and Rachel loved someone else. Oh, and I suppose Finn was too.

After the Puck and Finn fight, when my lies were discovered, I left the choir room in tears. I went to the bathroom, washed my face and tried to breathe deeply. Half an hour later, I sat on a bench. Rachel met me there. She was wearing a long sleeve blue blouse – coincidentally my dress color – willing to give me a chance to slap her. The irony of the situation: I was the one who should be slapped in the face. Rachel ruined everything. But I had blown it first.

"Could you go now? I want to be alone," I said to her.

Rachel complied and stood up. If she could understand the meaning of that scene, would have celebrated the drama later. By asking to be alone, I was "liberating" her. That little Diva deserved to be happy even if she loved an idiot like Finn Hudson, and promised myself never to be in her way. If I really liked her, I should let her stay with Finn.

**(Santana)**

Drama, drama, drama and a little bit of more drama. Seems like it was all that happened during the semester. Drama with Mr. Schuester and Coach Sylvester fight. Drama with Quinn's pregnancy, whose father was my bed partner. Drama with the love quadrangle formed by Finn "Fetus Face" Hudson, my sister, Quinn, and Puck. Drama with the Cheerios' new captain. Drama at home because of Zaide's call. My grandfather usually says my potential is wasted in Ohio even though my fathers don't feel the need to pull me out of McKinley. They understand Zaide's concerns about my future but haven't acted on those concerns just yet. But this time he spoke about New York with my Daddy. More specifically: Stuyvesant High School.

As I understand it, Zaide's friend, a former student of Stuyvesant, said he could use his influence allow me to take the school's entrance exam whenever I saw fit and potentially transfer out of this hell hole. This friend is a well know businessman from New York who owns a company that invests in pharmaceuticals and natural gas. I saw him once, I think, on Bubbee's anniversary party. Anyway, daddy and zaide disagree on almost everything about everything. But there is consensus about my education. Daddy was born in New York and he loves his hometown. No wonder he is one of the biggest supporters of Rachel's Broadway dream. I guess he never thought the same about me, but always defended the idea I deserve better schools than Lima can offer. Daddy thought Zaide's idea is great. Papa disagrees. He hates the idea about send me alone to study in other city or state. Papa thinks Rachel and I only should leave home after high school for college. I hate to cause this fight as all I want is stay with my Britt Britt and help her through Mckinley High years.

My relationship with Brittany was the only non-dramatic situation throughout the semester. We agreed some time ago to be on an open-but-secret relationship. I can have sex with Puck (and I really like his dick), and she can have sex with whoever else wants. I think she should be more selective and it's hard to hold back my jealousy sometimes. Brittany has been with more people than I can count on my fingers. Well, she likes fucking and experimenting with different people. I don't. I only had sex with three people: Puck, Brittany, and the football player asshole I lost my V-card to my freshman year. It's less than people assume I've slept with, but I don't like to talk about it in general.

I know it's not the ideal scenario for romance, but it's what I've got. My moto, "Sex is not dating," is much better than the soap opera level of drama created by the love quadrangle created in Glee Club. All this unnecessary drama almost ruined the hard work we've done on the Glee Club for Sectionals. So we went to the competition without one of our lead singers and our setlist was sold to other teams. Of course, the rest of the team accused me because I was sort of Coach Sylvester's mole. As much as I wanted to be the Cheerios' captain, I wouldn't mess with something I loved to do - which was singing.

I hated Quinn when she forced me to join the group. Of course I do love sing and dance and have fun in glee club. I've always liked to sing in the shower, but performing on stage is another thing. It's Rachel's thing, not mine. That's why I was so surprised when I found myself really enjoying glee club and working with some of those losers.

As the stage lit up for our Sectionals performance, Finn - the "hero" of glee club - sung "You Can't Always Get What You Want" by The Rolling Stones. It was a fine performance, but nothing worth writing home about. It certainly wouldn't work in helping us defeating the other glee clubs.

That, unfortunately, was left for Rachel. When she threw together a song at the last minute, I knew exactly what she'd be doing. I smiled when I heard "Don't Rain on My Parade" from Funny Girl - Rachel's favorite movie. My sister used to sing this song whenever she was happy. Rachel Berry-Lopez was brilliant, a true star.

I believed we would win anyway, even if we did our old numbers, like "Somebody To Love" or the emotional (which I liked a lot) "Keep Holding On." But the touch of brilliance from Rachel made history. Well, small and very local history. Of course I wouldn't say it to her. Not so with much enthusiasm.

When our victory was announced, we hugged each other and celebrated it a lot onstage.

"Well, you did right for once," I said to my sister.

"Mission accomplished!" Rachel cracked a huge smile and then look for Finn at stage. Not that he was hard to find it.

My dads were in the audience. They always try to attend everything they could with regard to extracurriculars. I was the first to reach them after the celebration with my team mates. I hugged them both.

"Congratulations, sweetie," Daddy gave me a kiss on the forehead. "You were divine. What a great Hanukkah gift."

"And we thought there was only a singer in the family," Papa said, hugging me as well.

"You may be surprised," I teased.

Rachel walked in hand-in-hand with Finn. They could finally be together. I wasn't sure how I felt about my sister having won "the man of her dreams," especially someone who I don't get along with - much less a Bigfoot. Rachel deserved better. I found Brittany in the crowd at the lobby. She was with Mike and Matt. The mood was jovial, much happier than when we won the cheerleading national championship last year.

We decided to celebrate with a few root beers and I was chosen to face the crowd next to the bar to buy some. I tried to edge my way into the bartender's line of sight, but got nothing in return.

"What the hell!" I grumbled loudly. "I just want some root beers."

"Root beer?" a female voice asked. I looked to my side and noticed the pretty brunette woman who was taking dry martini.

"Yeah," I replied with irritation. "I want just the damn root beer they sell on this fucking bar."

"Why don't you go somewhere else to have it?" the woman asked as she sipped the drink.

"Because I want a fucking root beer now. My team just won this damn competition and if I can't celebrate with a proper beer right now, at least give me a damn root beer. This is too much to ask?"

"You say 'damn' and 'fuck' too much young lady," the woman said. She was reprehensible. "And aren't you too young to talk about drinking beer?"

"I just want my drinks to celebrate with my friends over there, okay?"

"Hey! Tom!" the woman called to the bartender, who promptly answered. "May I have..." she looked at me and I pointed out four fingers, "four root beers?"

"Yes ma'am!" The bartender looked at me frowning. Just do the job, loser. And I won't give your tip.

"Thank you!" I finally got a good look at the woman and I had the impression she was very much alike someone I know.

"What's your name, girl?" The woman seemed to want a small talk.

"Santana."

"Santana Berry-Lopez?"

"How do you know?"

"Your name is written in the program as a member of New Directions, William McKinley High."

"Oh! And you noticed that? In names of people you've never seen?" It wasn't normal. I stared at the woman suspiciously. "Look, lady, I should warning you: I am not into that, okay?"

"What?" she was confused.

"I don't know why you kept my name on a flyer, but I am just saying I don't go around flirting with older people. You are really pretty, but I'm not like that. Maybe I will do some of radon flirting on college..."

I thought she would feel embarrassed, but the effect was an open and loud laugh.

"I am sorry, but I wasn't insinuating anything...questionable," she raised her hands and in the meantime, the bartender handed the bottles and I left the money on the counter. "But I did want to get to know you because they say keep your friends close, but your enemies closer."

"Enemies?"

"I'm Vocal Adrenaline's coach and our teams will face each other at Regionals. I came here know and learn about the winner, in this case, the New Directions. This includes identifying the major players."

"Oh." That was a good explanation. Rachel was obsessed with Vocal Adrenaline and sometimes she arrived with intel on numbers, leading vocals, and coaches. Not that I paid attention, but that's something Mr. Shue doesn't do because we should give each performance our hearts and souls, bla, bla, bla, despite the other teams.

"By the way, your choir did a good job. Congratulations."

"Thank you!"

"The soloist was formidable ... Rachel Berry-Lopez is her name, right?"

"Yes."

"I suppose you are relatives."

"She's my sister," I was uncertain to continue the conversation. I felt like I was giving too much information to the enemy. Not that it was a secret, anyway. "Thanks for your help..."

"Shelby Corcoran."

"Okay, Mrs. Corcoran, see you at Regionals."

…

**NEW YEAR DAY**

**(Rachel)**

"Ray?"

Santana came into my room with two bottles of beer. I was tidying up my wardrobe to discard clothes I no longer wear. It was a habit based on a superstition. Abuela always said it was necessary to dispose of the old stuff for the New Year to enter properly, and the best time to do so was December. Also in December, Aunt Maria always organized a grand bazaar where people could sell their old clothes and other household items; which traditionally happened in the church on January. Many poorer families attend it. The items were usually in good condition and the poorer families that came in felt good about buying the quality products at a reduced cost. Though they weren't necessarily new items, it made those people feel better about themselves and empowered them to buy what they could with what they had. And the proceeds went to benefit a community day care center in Lima Heights Adjacent that was previously run by my grandmother, who has since retired and handed over the responsibility to my aunt.

I always believed you need to be charitable - independent of religion, class, color, social position and gender. It's a pleasure and an easy way to do it - just donating clothes and things that are no longer wanted. Santana also makes her own contribution, but she's not disciplined and ritualistic like me. For my sister, it didn't matter if she binged her clothing stock in May or December.

"You won't be donating this year?" I was sitting on the floor with a pile clothes.

"I'm too lazy!" she said. I rolled my eyes. Typical. "I came to make a toast to you," she stretched the beer for me. I didn't understand. Santana knows I don't drink. Unless it's a shot of tequila with water, salt, and lemon that Abuela makes me to drink when I have flu. "For passing on the driving test. Now we are officially can have our car."

"So you're drinking beer to celebrate?"

"So what?"

"Santy, it is illegal to drink until 21."

"Negative. It's illegal to buy drinks and publicly get drunk until 21. We're not in public!"

"Amazing how you distort the law."

"I just want to make a toast and have a good time with my sister. Can't I?"

"And the best way to have a good time with me is by drinking a beer?"

"One won't get you drunk!"

Maybe she was right. It was just one. Even if my parents even put beer under the key protection in the cellar, even I knew one beer wouldn't get me drunk.

"Okay!"

"Okay?"

"Just one, right?"

"I only have these two bottles, Ray. I swear!"

"Dads know?"

"Of course they don't. Julio brought them and gave me these two. It's a special edition from Uncle Pedro's factory."

Julio is our oldest cousin. He's 22 and it's in Lima for the holidays. He quit college and started a business building motorcycles in Toledo. I love him but, of course, he prefers spending time with Santana. Uncle Pedro is married to Aunt Maria, my Papa's older sister. He sells wines and owns a small brewery in Lima. More than once, I've heard my dads saying uncle Pedro makes the best beer of the Midwest.

I picked up a bottle and opened it. I sniffed the liquid and didn't find it particularly attractive. I sipped a little. There was a bite to it, but it wasn't all bad. I could see why people would like it.

"So?" Santana waited expectantly.

"Not so bad." I smiled. "Anything else you want to toast to?"

"I don't know ... to the coming year?"

"What about our partners?"

"Toasting to Finn Hudson? Absolutely not!"

"But don't you want me happy? And I would toast to Puck and Brittany."

"Ray, Brittany and I ..."

"Santy, I wasn't born yesterday and Brittany has been coming to our house since we were seven. Also, I've seen you two together in the pool a few times."

"You have a point. So let's toast our driving licenses, the new year, and our partners."

"In your case ..."

"Don't even start, shorty" It's so nice when she's in good mood. She laughs and is more relaxed. I love to see my sister like that, without that damn Cheerio uniform and no worries about popularity. "We also need to toast this crazy year we've just survived."

"Yeah, I survived the slushies, Quinn Fabray, that safe sex conversation with Daddy because of you." Funny short story: Daddy and Papa found out that Santana lost her virginity. Papa wanted to kill her and daddy made a compelling powerpoint about safe sex for both of us.

"I survived appendicitis, Frannie and Quinn Fabray, Sue Sylvester..."

"I don't understand…"

"Don't understand what, Ray?"

"It's clear you don't like to be a Cheerio. You confessed at Sectionals that glee club is the best part of your day. So why don't you do the exchange?"

"I'd lose my popularity and you know how much it guarantees a certain protection in that school."

"Got it..."

"Britt loves being Cheerio," Santana blurted. "She loves dancing and Cheerios performances are always very physical and and allow for her inner artistry to come out. Being a Cheerio fits her like a glove." She sipped the beer and laughed dryly.

"Will you be captain, now that Quinn is definitely out because of her pregnancy?"

"Yes. But Coach said she'll announce it after the break."

"And what happens if you become head Cheerio?"

"I'll be untouchable, even being part of glee."

"And I will still be a slushie target..."

"Sorry, Ray. Although you are no longer the preferred target."

"No. Kurt is."

"So let's toast to that?"

"My beer is almost gone."

"Oh you liked it!"

"It's good having a civilized conversation with you. These moments were so rare this year. Why, Santy?"

"I think it's a part of growing up. Dunno..." she shrugged.

"Will we move away from the point of practically acting like strangers toward each other?"

"Nonsense! Despite everything, you're my little sister - 29 minutes younger means you're the little one," she joked.

"But it happens all the time. Don't you see those stories of brothers who live far away and go years without seeing each other?"

"It's not going to happen to us."

"Even if you hate me?"

"I don't hate you. Only sometimes." Santana shook the bottle. There wasn't much left of her beer. She stretched one leg, which had originally been crossed, "instead of making a toast, let's make a pact: whatever happens after we go to college: you to New York and me wherever the wind goes, we won't distance ourselves. We will find a way to have a beer together. What do you think?"

"Beer pact?"

"If you want to call it that..."

"Sounds good!" I stretched out my almost empty can.

We clinked the bottles and drank our last sips of beer. The pact was done.

...

**Author notes:**

**MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR!**

**This fic will come back in two weeks because the holidays. **

**Music of the chapter: "Merry Christmas (I Don't Want to Fight Tonight)" – Ramones.**


	5. S1 - Shelby

**SHELBY'S PLAN**

**(Rachel)**

Madness took over William McKinley High after the Sectionals. Suddenly, Finn Hudson, the sweetest boy in school, broke up with me and went out on a date with my sister. Domestic crisis: my dads had to separate a fight at home. Jesse St. James, the Vocal Adrenaline's male leader, showed up out of the blue in my school. We started dating after a spectacular duet and, a few days later, he was transferred to the New Directions. Suddenly, Santana loses interest in Finn, I almost offer my virginity to Jesse, I lose my voice temporally, Finn returns to be gentle with me, and all of this was surrounded by dozens of other small nits.

Artie once said that William McKinley High was like a bad Twilight Zone's episode. I believe his theory is correct.

One day, because of the bad reputation week, I made a brilliant "Run Joey Run" video clip. Jewfro filmed and edited for a peck on his lips. I persuaded Sandy Ryerson and blackmailed Santana to join the project. Brittany came naturally. Despite not wanting to talk to my sister, I needed two attractive girls to be angels. Tina and Mercedes weren't my type, and I was sure Quinn would refuse. The final touch was the edition with the three boyfriends I've had: Finn, Jesse and Noah. I loved. That was a truth master piece. Too bad the boys hated and my relationship with Jesse ended there.

Jesse even made a final appearance in my place, like a farewell. We started talking about wishes and dreams, I revealed my greatest secret desire: meet my biological mother. By magic, a K7 appeared in the box with old stuffs my dads keep on the basement. I couldn't believe my mom left me a message, and a perfect one: she sang "I Dreamed a Dream". I couldn't stand the emotion.

"Hey Hobbit." Santana came into my room without my permission, as always. "I've just talked with…" She finally noticed me and saw I was wiping my tears. "Why are you crying? What happened?" Santana ran towards me. I was sitting in my bed, still thrilled to hear, for the first time, my mother's voice.

"Nothing bad happened."

"So?"

"Do you think about our mother?"

Santana sighed and sat on the edge of my bed. Among the issues we never argued, perhaps this was our biggest taboo. When I was little and asked about my mother, my dads repeated the story of searching for the perfect woman, the insemination, etc. This satisfied my sister, but I, from time to time, returned to the subject. I wanted to know more details: the color of her eyes, her hair, if she liked to sing, if she was a good person. My dads smiled and said I could see with my own eyes as soon as I am 18.

"Sometimes." Santana confessed and I was surprised by the revelation. "Although I'm more curious to know who she is. Not that I want her in my life."

"If you knew where she is at this moment, would you meet her?"

"I don't know. Anyway, 16 years are a long time in a person's life, especially in an adult. I think our mother already has a husband, other kids, and we are in past. Moreover, papa and daddy are more than enough. And when I need a woman's advise, I always can go to abuela's or call aunt Rosa, and bubbee..." She smiled. "But never aunt Maria because I could end getting stuck in a convent."

Abuela was our main female reference. Aunt Rosa was a cool lady, but she lives in Indianapolis, as so as bubbee lives in Cleveland. Aunt Maria always try to convert Santana and I to the Christianity and this is very annoying.

"Ray?" Santana caught my attention after I fly to the moon for a moment. "Why do you ask about our mother?"

"I think it's just another of those crises I have about it."

"Rachel..." She spoke in a low serious tone.

"Seriously, Santy. It's nothing."

Santana got up from my bed still unconvinced. I know I should have played the K7 to her, but she would tell to our dads and I don't want more problems. Or maybe I was just being selfish.

"I'll rest a little..." She turned before leaving my room. "But if you need something… call dads, not me. I will kill you if you disturb my nap."

…

The day began like any other: I got up at six in the morning to exercise, I took a quick shower and Santana fought me over the sink to brush her teeth and got ready for school. Anyway: routine. We have our breakfast. Daddy grumbled because papa was making bacon and eggs. That was an affront. Santana doesn't eat pork, daddy and I are vegetarian and I am vegan. The domestic war forces about the meal are usually divided, but when papa decided to fry some bacon, we all united against him.

"Damn papa, I wanted to eat eggs, but you messed up putting bacon" Santana complained.

"All meat is inappropriate for a truly healthy diet. Not to mention that animals are mistreated and slaughtered with refinement of cruelty." I tried to help.

"Tell that to the cavemen." My sister always arranged a way to disagree with me. Unbelievable!

"See, my suspected that you are a cave-woman is confirmed, Satan!"

"Girls!" Daddy spoke up. "Yes, your father was extremely rude to fry this piece of pressed pork, but that's no reason to argue."

"For so open-minded people, you border on intolerance." Papa pretended being deeply offended. "Bacon is tasty, I'm in the mood to eat it, so I will do it with or without your consent."

End of discussion and we have our breakfast almost in peace. So, we went to school, daddy to the community college and papa to the hospital. Santana practically threw me in the car because we were a little late to pick up Brittany. It was our new routine since we won the car. Whenever we stopped in front of the light blue corner house in Green Oak, Santana honked three times, I hopped into the back seat and tried to abstract myself from useless and vulgar conversation my sister have with our longest friend.

"If it's not too much to ask." I said at the school parking lot. "Could you be on time today? I have an appointment I can't miss."

"I am leaving when I have to leave, Frodo. If I am not on your time, then take a ride or a bus."

"The car is also mine."

"But I have the keys." Yes, Santana got all the power. "Now get the hell out of here."

I spent the entire first period alone because I wasn't willing to socialize with other Glee Clubbers. Before the lunch break, I received a call from my spy in Carmel. She informed me that Jesse had returned to V.A. Worse, recent orders suggested their choir would do Lady Gaga. I freaked out! All my personal dramas were forgotten for possibility of not winning the Regional's.

I dedicated the rest of my free time investigating the news, as a perfect journalist. I contact the store that placed the orders and asked about everything I could. Then, I ran to the choir room and found the clubbers discussing a silly matter about Tina's new costume... boring. I ignored the debate and shot news.

Kurt, Mercedes and I talked about setting up an emergency group to Carmel and spy the rehearsal. Unfortunately Kurt had a family meet, leaving the task to me and Mercedes. Quinn also joined us, but only because she was temporarily staying with Mercedes and needed a ride.

When we got to the auditorium, the coach Shelby Corcoran was mad by robotic way Vocal Adrenaline was performing. She stopped the rehearsal and began to teach how they should act on the stage: with excitement and organicity. She looked for the students in the audience and singed a song from "Funny Girl", my favorite musical.

My heart was pounding, my legs completely lost power for a few seconds and I think I started to sweat. My ears are fine trained after all those years studying singing. Not only I am able to identify any tone, but also I can recognize all kinds of timbres. I knew dozens of singers only by mumble. That voice was the same of the one recorded on the K7. That was the voice of my mother. I was sure Shelby Corcoran was my mother. So, I stood up, despite protests from Mercedes and Quinn, and went towards the stage. I was thrilled and totally out of me. After Shelby finished the last note, I approached.

"Ms. Corcoran... I'm Rachel Berry-Lopez... I'm your daughter."

Shelby Corcoran, my mother, immediately dismissed the choir. I asked Quinn and Mercedes to call Santana and say her to pick me up at Carmel as soon as possible. Knowing my sister, she would take, at least, half an hour to come get me if I call her, and Carmel was just five minute drive from our home. And when I said half hour, was the situation where Santana was humorous. Otherwise, she would say me to walk. On the other hand, if the girls call her and say it's an emergency, she would be worried and react faster. Maybe in 15 minutes? Anyway, I have some time to talk alone with my mother.

Seeing my dreams became reality, panic hit on me. I could barely look at Shelby Corcoran, so I sat in different row seat. She confessed that she asked Jesse to deliver the tape to me. Legally, she could only see me when I turned 18, unless I look for her before. Talking to my mother for the first time in my life was exciting. Even more when we realized small prints we shared. Genetics had finally made sense. Then, my mother asked:

"How do you feel?"

"Thirsty!" I turned and stared at her face for the first time since the beginning of our conversation. I found myself intrigued, waiting for an explanation. "When I was little and used to get sad, my dads bring me a glass of water. Cause so I couldn't tell if I was sad or just thirsty."

That's when she freaked out. I even proposed a dinner, but she said in a panic mode she would call later and started down the stairs, leaving me for the second time. Before she had a chance to actually leave, Santana came frowning.

"Rachel! What the hell?"

"Santana..." I said with tears in his eyes. "This is Shelby Corcoran, our mother."

My sister has always been unpredictable when it came to emotions. Or she reacted with passionate exaggeration, or she turned into a block of ice. The second option happened there.

"Ms. Corcoran." She crossed her arms. "Nice to meet you again."

"Santana." Shelby said in distance. "Still enjoying root beer?" I don't understand the question, and my sister didn't answer. Shelby was troubled for the second time. "You two will excuse me, but I really need to go."

Once my mother left, Santana ran to me and hugged me. We stayed there a few minutes until I could compose myself. Ironically, Santana saw a jug of water over the table. She took a cup, filled and brought it to me. I cried further.

When we arrived at home, I climbed straight to my room while Santana explained what had happened to daddy (papa was in the hospital). He tried to talk with me, but I didn't want to. I didn't want a glass of water or anything else. All the times I dream with my mother, all the times I imagined her hugging me and saying everything will be ok. I was such a fool. Daddy helped me better by leaving me alone. But, shortly after, Santana got in my room with a salad sandwich and a glass of orange juice.

"You need to eat something, Ray. Malnutrition can kill."

"How can you be like that?"

"Like what?"

"You just find out who our mother is and looks like nothing had happened?"

"I wasn't looking for her." She put the meal on the nightstand and sat on the bed with her back against the headboard. "Like I told you before: I've never really missed her. Now, all I know is that the woman who sold her eggs and rented her belly so that we could be born, is the coach of our main adversary. But what does that change? By the way Ms. Corcoran ran, probably nothing."

"She decided to look for me when she saw us at the Sectionals. She said I was extraordinary." Then something hit me. "Why did she ask you about root beer?"

"That day, at Sectionals, Britt, Matt, Mike and I were celebrating. I was chosen to buy some root beers, but the bartender was difficult. Ms. Corcoran was around and helped me." Her gazed away. "Now I see that scene from another angle. I may be paranoid, but when I introduced myself, she seemed to be well aware of who I was."

"You spoke first with our mother?"

"By accident, but yes. What I don't understand is why she pitched all this bullshit just to run away? She planted Jesse on our school for what?"

"She only asked Jesse to hand me the tape."

"What tape?"

That's when I had to show it to Santana. She was not impressed.

"Do you really believe on this crap? That this tape was on our old memory boxes all this time? You are too naïve, Rachel. What a trap she made, and you fell like a dumb duck."

"Why does she had a panic attack?" I theorized, ignoring Santana's last rampage. "Or maybe you scared her."

"Are you serious?" Santana could enforce her point in a nutshell.

"I don't know." I took up my hands to my head. "I'm as confused as you."

"This woman should never ever showed up" - Santana hissed angrily.

"I thought you didn't care."

"Of course I care!" She frowned. "She had no right to mess up with our lives. Who does she think she is to fuck with our minds?"

"Don't you think she's as confused as we are?"

"Eat your sandwich, ok?" Santana got up from my bed and left my room without answering my question.

The moment I went downstairs into the kitchen, I noticed my dads arguing in the library. I approached sneaky and realized they were talking to Mr. Thompson, the family's lawyer. Daddy, ever so moderate, was the angriest, while papa, always stern and strict, seemed a conciliator. Daddy talk about sue Shelby. Papa wanted to talk to her first.

I ran to the kitchen to prevent them to catch me. I left the cup in the sink when papa came up and turned on the light. I straightened the body and forced a smile.

"Estrellita" Papi opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. "How much did you listened?" He said in a way that I couldn't denying or making excuses.

"Por favor, don't sue her. She held my dream even thought the meeting wasn't perfect."

"I agree." Papi drank some and smiled. "Ahora usted sabe que se parece a su madre." Everytime papa is nervous or really happy, he speaks more in Spanish them English.

"Really?"

"Siempre estuve seguro, estrellita."

"Did you like her?"

"Éramos amigos durante el embarazo. Ella era una chica enérgica, llena de sueños".

"¿Es serio?"

"Si, claro." Papi looked away, even cracked a slight smile. "She was talented as you are if I remember well."

"I think she and daddy talked about music all day."

"In the beginning, yes." Papa's smile faded and he looked thoughtful.

"Papi? What's up?"

"It's time to you sleep, estrellita. Usted tuvo un día ocupado."

I didn't question him. Papa clearly wanted to be alone. I didn't know the past my dads had with Shelby, but I began to suspect that the story about an adorable gay couple who hired a beautiful young woman to be the mother of their children had a bug: a huge one.

…

**Author notes:**

**This chapter hasn't been reviewed yet. But it will soon by my beta.**

**If you are wondering, the story is still follow Glee season 1 events. But it will start to change very soon. If you read the Portuguese version, then you know!**

**Still, who read the original version may start to note some differences, like the final dialogue of this chapter.**

**Happy new year!**

**Music of the chapter: "Concrete Jungle" – Céu (cover).**


	6. s1 - Goodbye, for now

**GOODBYE, FOR NOW**

**(Quinn)**

My camera was the only value stuff that my father couldn't sell after he kicked me out. I heard he sold my car, my jewelry, my room's furniture and my old bicycle. What wasn't profitable, was donated. So all I had left was a bank account with $260, some of my clothes, two pairs of shoes and my camera: the only thing I made sure to shove the suitcase on that unfortunate day.

Pregnancy and being in the shit at least made me draw some goals:

1: I would find a part-time job after the labor and giving my baby up for adoption;

2: I would recover my post at the top, after all, respect and visibility are important;

3: I would get a scholarship in college and leave Lima by my own legs;

4: Noah Puckerman would never touch me again;

5: I would never miss a condom in my purse.

Not that I planned have sex, but condoms became a reminder that I can't trust anyone and that I should always be prepared for anything. Puck proposed me to sleep with him on regular basis, since I had nothing more to lose. Instead, I bought a pink dildo that I named Lady Barbra.

When Lady Barbra wasn't curing the itch in my pregnant vagina, or when I am not reading a book, I spent some time photographing the rooms I stayed. I could do an exhibition.

The first room was Finn Hudson's. It had many posters on the wall, like Keith Moon's picture, rock bands, flags and logos of some football teams. Finn's room was too small to fit the drums, which was in the living room. But it had a chair that belonged to his father, a lamp and a computer on the desk, a shelf with baseball and football balls, some action figures and the biggest TV of the house just for his X-Box. I also found a collection of Playboys inside a bag he keeps under the bed.

Everything in that house reminded Finn. Carole Hudson made her son the center of the universe. I got a lot about him on the weeks I lived there. I figured why he was a good kid, and so the reason he was childish and somewhat silly.

The second bedroom was Noah Puckerman's. I moved to his house as soon as my lies involving my baby's father were over. As Carole, Puck's mother hated me. But Carole at least tried to be kind. Mrs. Puckerman counted the days to my labor so I could go away. I also understand more about Puck. He was the eldest son of a family with little money. The father left behind his wife and two kids, and they had to provide the bread without any other help. Puck cleans pools to effectively help her mother and younger sister. Of course it doesn't stop him being a bastard womanizer.

Puck's room was spartan. It had a simple wardrobe, a single bed, a nightstand, clean walls, except for a Metallica's poster. The small amplifier and the guitar were in the corner. Puck prefers "read" Hustler and kept some issues inside the nightstand drawer.

The third bedroom was Ethan Jones'. That's where I've been sleeping since Mercedes invited me to stay at her home. Ethan studied with my sister, Frannie. They were part of the same group of popular kids of William McKinley High and they graduated together. That was the first room I found books and graphic novels instead of men's magazines. But there were caveats. Ethan had a copy of "Lost Girls", by Alan Moore, and other erotic GNs. You can call it art, but it is still porn material, which reinforces my theory that men think about sex all the time.

Ethan's room reflected a better financial condition of the Jones. The family lives in a nice house, Mercedes' father was a dentist, her mother has a small shop. They enjoyed having dinner together and they didn't judge me for being pregnant at 16. For the first time I felt truly welcomed by strangers. I owed an eternal debt of gratitude to Mercedes.

…

Some of bizarre moments of the Glee Clubbers that didn't include me.

1: Kurt joined the football team dancing Beyonce;

2: Rachel Berry-Lopez accept take some drugs to win a worthless competition;

3: Puck sold marijuana cupcakes at school;

4: Santana slept with Finn Hudson and her sister doesn't know yet;

5: The coach of our greatest adversary is Rachel and Santana's biological mother.

This latest news had just burst out. When Mercedes dragged me to spy on Vocal Adrenaline's rehearsal, I thought I would just watch a good show. But the Rachel bombshell revelation with a dramatic entrance was one of the best scenes of the year. Mercedes is a great person, but she can't control her tongue when she got excited about some news. In the next day, before the lunch break, half the choir already knew. There was no use to denying it, so I confirmed the story.

I didn't blame Santana for having avoided everybody at school or the absence of Rachel.

I found Santana in an empty classroom and she seemed to even notice me. I looked at what she was writing: numbers. She was doing one of that complicated calculi I didn't dream of solving, and I was a top student. I knew Santana had special class for advanced students, and she would hate if everybody knew she's kind of a genius. I remember the conversation she had with Brittany I wasn't supposed to hear, that she said the three things that calmed her: sex, gardening and numbers. We were on lunch break, the choir was doing Gaga's week, and we would soon wear a costume to rehearse "Bad Romance". That was the point that I begin the conversation.

"B said you and she packed a great costume for the number."

"We were working on it." She said still not looking at me. "Until you called."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No offense, Fabray, but you're the last person in this school that I would talk."

I didn't know if it was the effect of my late pregnancy or if I truly respect her drama. Instead of giving her my usual passive aggressive bitterness response, I sat down beside her.

"Puck just suggested baptize the baby as Jackie Daniels."

"What about Joan Walker? So she can keep walking." She opened a small smile.

"Not funny." We hushed for a moment. "Seriously, how are you?"

"Not too bad. I don't know why you ask. "

"You found your biological mother yesterday. This is huge."

"To my sister. Not to me."

"Then why are you hiding inside an empty room doing calculations?"

"I just need to think."

"Right… Will you go to the choir today? It will be good to you. Singing our demons, you know?"

"Yeah, I'll show up. I brought my costume and it would be a waste not to show how sexy it is on me." I nodded and stood up. "Quinn..." Santana hesitated.

"What?"

"If you give your baby for adoption and someday, after about 16 years, she looks for you, then call her for a coffee and listen to her story, tell a little of yours. If you want to keep in touch, just great. But if you don't, please be honest and say goodbye. Don't play games or run away. Because if you do, you can fuck with her head and it wouldn't be right."

I didn't know what happened between Mrs. Corcoran and the improbable twins, but I presume the meeting wasn't so good. Anyway, Santana got me thinking about my baby and my future.

…

**(Santana)**

Shelby Corcoran messed my world, and it wasn't fair. Because of her, there was tension between my dads this morning, Rachel was a wreck, and I seemed to be the only person willing to not let be affect. I kept my pose as much as possible and did my best to scare people, even Britt.

Pretending everything was the same it would be easier. The problem was that Mercedes Jones, a natural gossip girl, witnessed the whole scene with Rachel. Of course, every school must be aware and I hated the pious and anxious glances in my direction.

I needed change the game, change my mood. Unfortunately, calculation, gardening or sex wouldn't work this time. I had to make a direct approach to my problems. That's why, at the end of the classes, I ignored the cheerios training and went toward Carmel. I needed to get some things clean, then I searched for Shelby Corcoran, and I was told she was in the office, but she was already with some people. I decided to go there anyway because there was no one more important than me at that moment.

But there was.

My dads were there talking to her.

I tried, but that damn office was soundproof and all I could hear were muffled sounds. I still had few options. I could wait and confront them on exit, or just leave. I chose the second. I went back to McKinley in time to Glee. Rachel was there. Apparently daddy gave her a ride before going to "community college". Liar!

"Daddy helped you to stick these stuffed animals in your pajamas this morning?" I asked in the presence of our friends. "Didn't you have a better idea? Although this costume perfectly reflects your kitsch."

"It reflects my emotional state, dear sister, not my fashion preferences."

"Please, you do not have a preference style that is out of the Sears catalog."

For some reason, our public discussions always amused the choir. Everyone enjoyed rudeness since it wasn't addressed to them. After the rehearsal Rachel asked for the car keys. I kind of knew where she was going. She needed to get clean some things. I handed the keys and hitched a ride with Matt. At home, I found daddy doing some gardening. I put on some old comfortable clothes and helped him.

"Hi Dad." I handed him a plastic bag to put the branches.

"How was school, honey?"

"All right, I think. Our friends already know the news. "

"Did they give a hard work to you and your sister?"

"Not really. Rachel made a nice speech reiterating her loyalty to the team and the subject is no longer attractive five minutes later. She knows how to handle these things better than me."

"Where is she?"

"She took the car."

"For?"

"She didn't say." Daddy sighed and muttered softly. "Dad... what will happen now? I mean, about Shelby Corcoran?"

"Your father and I talked and we came to a consensus. We won't issue her, but we asked her to keep the proper distance for the good of you all."

"You mean she can't come near us or something?"

"That would be silly, Santana. You and your sister can meet her if you want, but your father and I must to know first. She manipulated Rachel to break a serious rule of a contract. That's not ok, kid. But we need to consider what is better for both of you."

"Like supervised meetings?"

"We will see what is the best way to do it. Do you agree?"

"My opinion is valid now?" Not that I disagree, but it would be better if Rachel and I were consulted first.

"Santana..."

"No, that's ok. I agree to the terms."

"But do you want to meet your biological mother? Keeping in touch?"

"I don't know."

In the follow day, Rachel appeared in the boys' Kiss performance with a cool Gaga dress. I complimented her and she proudly said her mother made it. It was important to Rachel say that she had a mother. For once, I liked Shelby Corcoran.

But not for long. In the early evening, Rachel broke into my room with some tears in her eyes.

"Shelby called. She asked to talk with to us tomorrow at 5 P.M in Carmel."

"Isn't this against the new rules?"

"Santy, I think she wants to say goodbye."

…

**(Rachel)**

"I hate you." Santana crossed her arms. "I hate you for dragging me here. I hate you because it's raining outside. And I blame you for everything that's wrong in the world."

We were in Carmel's auditorium. I, with my red dress, and my sister at my side with a bib pants and blouse (thought those clothes makes her a lovely nerd). It wasn't hard to drag her to Carmel. All it took was a little emotional blackmail mixed with a little logic. In case, if something went very wrong and I kill myself, she would be the one to blame.

"She is your mother too." I ignored her and looked at the papers. "You should thank me because I know you'd regret it later if you wouldn't have come."

"Yeah, I should thank you for lost the chance to have a wonderful orgasm at Puck's house."

"I don't need to hear about your sex life!"

"My God, me either!" My mother interrupted and surprised us. "That was more disturbing than I could imagine."

Shelby walked around the piano and stood in front of us. The musical instrument worked as a shield. I wasn't sure if it was ours or hers. Shelby was elegant, dressed in a fine leather jacket, discreet jewelery combining with urban chic style. I wondered if one day I could be as sophisticated as she was.

"How you parents came up with these names? Rachel and Santana?"

"Santana and Rachel." My sister muttered. "I'm the oldest."

"Daddy was a big Friends fan and papi loves Carlos Santana's music."

"By daddy you mean Hiram, right?" I noted. "This is so him. And Juan had a wonderful music collection. He was the one who introduced me to Nina Simone. Now, I am a fan."

"Still has." Santana essayed a smile. "Our collection is huge. All the good and rare stuffs are in the basement... Papi says that a tornado can bring the whole house down except the music collection."

Shelby chuckled. Then the seriousness took over and a brief silence contaminated the environment.

"I know you called us here to say goodbye." I struggled to not crying.

"I really wish this had happened as I pictured."

"As you pictured?" Santana joked. "You didn't even try. To me, you're afraid."

"It's not so simple. I wish I could somehow compensate both of you for this long absence. But everything got very confused. I remembered two little babies, but I found out two beautiful and independent young women. You don't need me, and I fear that I misunderstood some things. It's confusing."

"Confusing to whom, Mrs. Corcoran." I always tensed when my sister went into combative mode. "There is no misunderstood on my part. You're not my mother. You're only the woman who donated 50% of my genetic material."

"You are my mom." I corrected, but pondered. "On the other hand, 16 years passed..." Words failed me. All the situation was still very confusing.

"No, Santana is right: I'm not a mom. Yet, I'm a mother. You are 50% me, I gave birth to both of you, and this is undeniable. Whether or not you two are part of me and the last thing I would do is harm you. Therefore, I know it's better not take this relationship further for now. It would be confusing for you and for me. I need to tell myself that I lost your growth. I lost the breastfed, your first steps and the first words. If there is one thing that I regret, that was it."

"But that was your choice, Corcoran." Santana pinned.

"I knew you would be in the hands of two amazing guys. So I signed that contract. But then... well, it was too late and I had to deal with the consequences of my actions. I was only 20 and had big dreams. But now, here I am making the right decision to not complicate the life of you two."

"This means that we can't see each other anymore? That we should pretend we don't know each other?" I felt my heart beat harder, almost desperate.

"Nonsense. Let's face some possibilities: the distance will be healthy for now and nothing prevents the three of us can get closer in the future. We'll build this relationship in baby steps." Shelby looked at me. "And don't think I'll make things easier on Regionals just because you are on the other team."

"Bring it on." I smiled quickly, and then make another big effort to hold back my tears.

"Can I have a hug?" I was surprised by this Shelby's ask.

Santana was the first to go around the piano and gave her a quick hug. The impression I got is that the gesture would be even shorter if Shelby hadn't caught her a little more. In my time, I tried to prolong the moment as much as I could. I took a deep breath to smell the perfume she wore, the shampoo. Little things I could memorize and store.

"Could you do me a favor?" I positive nodded and she opened the folder. "When you're thirsty, can you drink water in this cup? " She opened the package and showed me a glass decorated with a golden star. "Gold stars are my thing." I accepted the present, enjoying even more lightweight warmth she gave in my hair. "I wasn't sure what I could give you, Santana" She pulled out a bottle and handed it to my sister. "This is my favorite root beer. I hope you like."

Santana nodded and thanked her softly.

"Before you go, would you sing with me?" I made the request. Shelby seemed interested. "I always had this fantasy of doing a duet with you. It would mean a lot to me."

"Sure! Would be an honor."

"Brad." I screamed. Shelby looked at me suspiciously. "He is always around!"

The pianist sat down and Santana got a space on the bench beside him. I started singing with Shelby. It was incredible! She is fabulous. That certainly was the best duet I've ever done. In the end, she just made a quick affection and withdrew from the auditorium. I couldn't hold the tears. I felt arms around me, comforting me. These arms were Santana's.

"Poker Face?" She tried to make fun but also had moist eyes. "Really?"

"Shut up!" I hugged her further.

We cried together for a while until we had conditions to collect our things and go.


	7. S1 - Regional

**REGIONAL**

**(Rachel)**

Santana, Brittany and the cheerios won another national championship. If it didn't serve as relief in the choir, at least my home environment was much better. Santana was just irritated by Sue Sylvester's threat that she would end us in the Regionals. We all were. What hurt the most was the loss of a pleasurable moment and the end of unusual friendships we made throughout the year. My fellow Glee clubbers were the only friends I've made in years.

My sister once said that I was desperate to date Finn or Jesse because I didn't know how to win friends otherwise. This wasn't true. Santana and I have different views on the subject. To my sister, dating is laid on a regular basis. To me, dating is a deeper fellowship. Friendship always comes first, right? Otherwise, Finn wouldn't be the one to give me the biggest incentive even though we weren't together.

"Just because he wants get in your pants" – she said when we discussed about – "He isn't that nice, Rachel. Open your eyes."

"You're jealous."

"Far from this, sis."

To Santana, everything is about sex, money and power. It's annoying.

The choir brought me other important things besides exposing my enormous talent. Beyond all rivalry involving Kurt and Mercedes, there was genuine admiration between us. Quinn no longer tortured me. Noah stopped seeing me as an object of slushies or awkward creature he bumped whenever he came to my house to have sex with my sister.

And Finn was the one with me at the crucial moments. He opened my eyes and believed in the potential of our team. Together, we were powerful and could defeat Vocal Adrenaline. Mr. Schue also said that, but who raised my spirits was Finn. In the rehearsal, we did a second cover version of "Do not Stop Belivin", our particular classic. I began the duet with Finn, Santana and Noah had some lines, Artie reinforced the vocals and Mercedes made the final high notes. It was so good to watch my sister singing her first solo lines in an important competition. I hoped she sings more, since I continue to be the star.

Finn and I still needed to adjust "Faithfully", so I invited him to do an extra rehearsal in the pool house.

"Good evening, Mr. Berry." Finn was nervous to greet Daddy, that was reading in the living room. My boyfriend looked scared, as the first time he was here.

"Good evening Finn." Dad took his glasses off. "It's been a while. Welcome."

"Thank you, Mr. Berry."

"Hiram." Dad smirked, not caring much to my boyfriend's embarrassment. "Are you going rehearse in the pool house?"

"Yes." I answered quickly. "Regional is tomorrow and time is running."

"Wow!" Finn distracted a bit. "I didn't remember that giant TV over there. I bet it's amazing playing Call of Duty there."

"Call of Duty?" Dad asked.

"It's a game, Mr. Berry... Hiram."

"Oh, I don't know much about video games. But the girls play Wii Fit sometimes."

"And Mario Kart." Santana came from the kitchen munching bread with something and sat next to Daddy. In certain, they will watch some sci-fi TV show I hated. "So Finn… I didn't know you and my little sister are dating again."

"I... hum..."

"This is definitely not your business." I hastened to answer.

"Girls!" Daddy sighed a little louder. "Rachel, I think two hours of practice time would be enough for your two get perfection, right?"

"Of course. Finn and I will be in the pool house, in case you need us."

"With open doors." Daddy smirked one more time.

The practice was perfect, as always. It's been a while since I made a duet with Finn, but we not lose our tune. First, we rehearsal with playback. Then we improved on the piano, to achieve the notes perfectly. I had a little technical as instrumentalist and it was kind of useful. Daddy was the real pianist of the family. Bubbee was a pianist. She taught kids from wealthy families while Zaide worked as a laborer in New York. Before that, she played with her father in jazz bands. Bubbee forced daddy to practice at least three hours every day until he was 13.

Dad dropped the piano for a few years. He said he only make peace with the instrument when I was born. Coincidentally, that was when he made peace with Zaide since he came out. My and Santana's birth helped the Berries in many ways.

"Rachel?" Finn interrupted my thoughts. "You got far away. Are you okay?"

"Oh, yes. I was just thinking about this entire situation. Sometimes my mind wanders."

"Don't worry. I believe in us and I know everything will work out."

Then, we kissed. Then he deepened the kiss. Then we started to making out.

"Rachel!" – We split up at Santana's presence - "Daddy said it's time to not-so-Finnocence say goodbye. We all have to wake up early tomorrow. Moreover, papa arrived."

My parents don't care if we bring friends at home. But boyfriends were another story. Daddy was more liberal, but papa could be very scary when he wanted. The first time he spent five minutes talking with Finn, my boyfriend almost ran away for his dear life. I walked Finn to his old truck and said goodbye with one more kiss. We were so ready for a relationship.

…

I got insomnia that night. Everything went through my mind at once: Regional, Jesse and my mother, Sue Sylvester. I woke up tired and didn't speak with anyone at breakfast.

Santana and I put the box with our costumes in the car and then we picket Brittany up. Finn and the New Directions went to Columbus by school bus with Mr. Schue and the team. We agreed to meet everyone at the door of the auditorium, where the competition happens.

I was so eager to finish everything, as also Santana. It was the first time she kissed Brittany in front of me and didn't threaten me after. These two exchanged occasional caresses along the way. I would have found adorable if I wasn't so lost in my thoughts. We arrived first at the auditorium and wait the rest of the team. As captain, I was able to book our dressing room with the organization. So I moved ahead.

To most of the audience, choir competition takes place at night with five or six teams. It's surreal to think that someone can be a national champion by defeating only a few teams each round.

First, there is the Invitational, where the team perform to an audience with the presence of a representative of the National School Choirs League. If the team reaches the minimum requirements, it will compete with others from the same city or the same state. That was the Sectional. A team only needs to do Invitational once. But if the group stop competing for a season, then it has to do another Invitational perform.

The number of competitors vary from year to year (choirs come and go, and not every school has a competitive group). Only the best team qualifies from Sectional to Regional. It's where the winners of the divisions of four states meet. In the case of our regional division there are teams from four states: Ohio, Michigan, Indiana and Kentucky.

Generally, The Regional happens in two days. On the first day there is a technical round wherein the set is more important than soloists or choreography. The top five or six notes advances to the artistic round in the day after, which is the show that people pay for the ticket. It's the moment when the solist can shine and the choir needs to impress. Each team has a minimum of five and maximum of ten minutes to perform. The winner is qualified for the National.

The National gathers the 12 regional winner teams around the country, plus the current champion that has the right to defend its title, a choir from Hawaii and another from Alaska.

Our Regional only had ten teams: three from Ohio.

Vocal Adrenaline is the current national vice-champion, so it came to these Regional with fire in its eyes to regain the championship.

As a matter of logistics, the organization decided to make the competition in one single day. It means more foray, more fatigue, but the coaches agreed the rules on a prior technical meeting.

I took the program. We would be the second to perform the technical knockout.

"The dresses are beautiful! Why can't we use them for competition in the afternoon?" Brittany asked.

"They should be shown only in the big game, Britt." Santana explained.

"That would spoil our surprise." I said packing the blue shirts and ties we would wear for the first round.

"Girls!" Mercedes and Tina entered the dressing room, followed by Quinn, who looked exhausted because of advanced pregnancy. She could go into labor any time and I was worried. I made her sit down. "Glad you find a nice dressing room. Hey, the dresses arrived in one piece, thank God." Mercedes sought it in the box.

"It's a shame we didn't have time to make more adjustments." Tina looked at her dress.

"You brought the shirts and ties?" Quinn asked.

"They are in the backpacks."

Tina and Mercedes take the clothes and hang them, already helping to organize. Tina and Kurt were the most skilled in small seams so they made emergency adjustments, but, thank God, there was no need to do anything complex.

"Okay, guys." Mr. Schue gathered us in the corner of the room. "The competition starts in half hour. The second round begins promptly at 19h30. It's time to warm up the voices."

"And if we don't qualify, Mr. Schue?" Artie, where he raised his hand.

"That's not a possibility to us, Artie. We are going make the second round and face the other four teams with equal conditions."

At the exit of the auditorium, we crossed the way with Vocal Adrenaline. They had just parked. Everyone came in their private cars and two vans brought their equipment. My mother passed by Santana and I. She greeted us politely. My heart was pounding, but I kept my posture.

Our presentation of "One" and "Like a Prayer" was perfect. The other groups were mediocre, even Vocal Adrenaline made a bureaucratic performance of a Beatle's pout pourri. And we made it. We ranked second behind the Wayne Ford's team. The Vocal Adrenaline was third. We had a great number for the artistic round and we were confident. The boys of our band started a particular rush to install the instruments while we stay at the backstage doing hair, makeup and concentrating for the grand finale.

"Daddy is here, papa couldn't make it." Santana showed me the text message. They always tried to go in the major competitions. "Do you will want to talk to him?"

"Better not. I prefer to stay concentrated. And you?"

"I'm a little nervous…"

My hands were cold and sweaty at the same time when the big show began. The time passed quickly and I found myself with Finn in the entrance hall of the auditorium, listening to the presenter announce our group. I looked at my boyfriend and smiled nervously. He said he loved me and magic happened. That was our journey.

But we lost… and Quinn had her baby.

…

I awoke to the gentle sound of Santana swimming. Every time she wanted to clean her mind, she swam. My sister said there is no quieter place in the world than under water. Me? My head doesn't empty nor in the water nor anywhere. It is impossible to me to follow any oriental religion or philosophy. But I admire who can keep a quiet mind and a peaceful heart. I wore a tank top and shorts, them went straight to the pool. I sat on the edge and put my feet in the slightly warm water. Santana approached underwater and emerged beside me.

"It's a miracle you came to the pool about to get your feet in."

"If it works for you, why wouldn't work for me?"

"Because I'm a fish and you're a cat that runs away from the water."

"Watch out! Cats eat fishes."

"Not the sharks or dolphins..." Santana burst into laughter with the analogy that I didn't understand.

In a quick and precise movement, she grabbed my arm and pulled me into the water. I hate polls. Hate! Plus, Noah was your cleaner and I didn't trust the efficiency of his services. Another complicating factor is our pool almost concealed me. And I can't swim.

"Damn, Santana!" I struggled to reach the ledge, but my sister held me.

"Relax, Ray. Don't fight the water, or me. I won't let you drown."

"You say this every time." I grabbed Santana as if my life depended on it. Before I knew it, my body was glued to her with my legs around her waist and my arms wrapped her neck. "That's weird!" I referred to the feeling of comfort and security I felt after I calmed down more.

"This is not the best part." She smiled devilishly. "Now cover the nose, we'll dive."

"No..." It's terrifying been underwater. I can't avoid this feeling and Santana knows. I hated her for that. Pool wasn't as comfortable as bath. It had the most intense sound, darkest light, all the waving... and the sensation of breathlessness. It was a relief when we emerged. "I swear I'll kill you!" I clung to her even stronger.

"God, you're trembling." She walked up the stairs to the pool, which I took a chance and left. I sat in the sunbed, letting the sun warmed me. I dried my hair out a bit as Santana left the pool. She took the towel on the floor. "All right." She put the towel around my back and sat beside me. "How do you feel?"

"Wet and cold!"

"That's obvious." She paused. "How do you feel?"

"Didn't I just say?"

"About yesterday."

"Sad. The Glee Club is over... life in school will return to the same hell with everyone throwing slushies in my face, talking lies about me, giving me names, and you never bother to defend or help me."

"The drama!"

"It's because you're popular, a huge mean bitch, and people are afraid of you. I'm afraid of you sometimes."

"Truth." We sat in silence for a while, until Santana broke it. "Corcoran talked to me after the result. She congratulated the team and my first solo lines."

"So what?"

"Well… She asked if you were okay and then said I should look after you more. Why she'd say that, Ray?"

"While you were in the hospital with Quinn and the others, I looked for her… again. Shelby said she don't want to coach choirs anymore because she needed a home and a family. And her plan doesn't include you and me."

"She told you that?" Her voice rose in revolt.

"The last part was implied."

"Oh, Rachel..."

"I had to make one last attempt. She is our mother and I couldn't let her go out of our lives so easily. Unfortunately she still doesn't want us... me."

"She loses." Santana put her arm on my shoulder and pulled me closer to her. "Not wanting the company of the amazing Berry-Lopez sis is a sign she doesn't deserve us and must be crazy." We fell silent for a minute. "But she was right on one thing: being the oldest, I have to take care better of you."

"How 29 minutes makes difference?" I rolled my eyes.

"It makes me wiser than you."

"You? Wise? Stop the world!"

She laughed and hit my arm. That's my sister.

…

**Author's notes**

**End of "season one". Next week I will start posting a different season two.**

**Faberry is coming.**


	8. S2 - Summer Vacation 2011

**SUMMER VACATION 2011**

**(Quinn)**

"Quinnie, how about Miami?" Mom was looking for a place to spend the summer's vacation in somewhere that we could afford.

She left dad after discovered his affair with a tattooed woman. I've always suspected my father was unfaithful, but adventurous, well, that was news. The divorce process was finished after a short negotiation. My mother kept the house, her car, and got a small pension. The money was shorter and we couldn't maintain the same standard of living anymore. When mom told me all the things that happened in my absence, I could feel she regretted about my expulsion and the divorce. My father had better lawyers and kept all his money while she lost almost everything when signed the papers.

Gradually, mom began to live the new reality. We could no longer afford maids, or consuming as before. Mom and I discussed about sell the house for a smaller one. But she still wanted to make a sacrifice and pay a trip to celebrate my 17th birthday.

"Or maybe we could save the money. What do you think?" I suggested.

"No way. Let's travel together, hit the road. We deserve it after the year we had." She looked once more to the options on the computer. "We've never been in Niagara Falls. It's not too expensive to spend three days in the city and we still can go to Canada."

"What about Chicago? It's a great city not far by driving. It should be considered."

Mom went back to the computer and typed the city name.

"Sounds good."

I wasn't that interested in traveling. I would rather stay in my little corner of the world. Having a daughter, held her, looked at her face and gave her up for adoption was the hardest things I've ever done. It's worse than the pain of the labor. Physical pain goes fast. This pain leads a life.

Puck disappeared after the classes ended. No phone calls. Nothing. If that was how he said he loved me, imagine if he hated me? The only friends in the choir who called me were Mercedes and Rachel. Rachel's call was a big surprise indeed. I didn't think she'd mind. We ended up laughing because her mother had just adopted my daughter. Bitter laugh. Still, a laugh.

The divorce didn't erase the scandal of my teen pregnancy among The Penns, my maternal family. My grandfather is a preacher and he was still upset with me. He didn't care if I was a teen mom. What bothered him more was that I didn't marry the guy. Then, because I gave my daughter for adoption, he called me a quitter, as I recorded. My aunts and cousins rarely talked with me, but I am used to it. Frannie called me twice. She will spend a week in Ohio in late summer to see my mother and me. I still can't forgive her for turned her back on me when I was pregnant. On the other hand, I shouldn't be surprised: Frannie was a dad's girl.

"Chicago!" Mom said out loud. "I am researching the city. Oh, Quinnie, there is so much to see there. We will have a full week."

"And can we afford?"

"Well, I still have some saves."

"Mom…"

"I want to travel. I deserve it, ok? We had a difficult year and we need to recover our energy. The best way is leave this city and rest your mind just a little bit."

"When are we going again?" I resigned myself.

"In your birthday's week, of course. Oh, Quinnie, we will be able to visit museums, sights and even dinner at a nice restaurant. Maybe you will find a good guy to date."

"Dating?" I laughed with an acid taste in the mouth. The only one I dated these last months was with my dildo Lady Barbra and we were exclusive.

"What's so funny?" She put her hand to her waist. "You should flirt, yes. You are young and need to meet new guys. You won't make the same mistakes now that you're more experienced."

"Like… get pregnant?" I teased.

"For example."

"I don't want a man in my life."

"You're disappointed now, but you will want one. It is a matter of time. "

"How can you be so sure?"

"A woman shouldn't be alone, Quinnie. Especially a young and beautiful like you. Sooner or later, you will miss having a boyfriend and a normal life."

"Really? What about you? Do you already missing a man at your side?" My mother looked at me with a memorable frown.

"I'm in a different stage of life and I just got out of a 25 years marriage."

"But you do still have flesh and blood in the veins, and desires. You're beautiful and should date again. You should live a little, mom"

"You still have to learn about life, Quinnie."

"Yes, I do. But, at least, I know what I don't want to do right now."

"If you don't want a boyfriend and enjoy your youth, what would you do?"

"I don't know, mom. Maybe I get a job."

…

**(Rachel)**

It was our first time in England, where we enjoyed not only the typical tourism in London, but also experienced a bit of the local lifestyle. All with the invaluable Lars Nicoln and his family help. He studied at OSU with daddy and the two remained close friends even after the adventurer biologist (now a professor at Cambridge) returned to his homeland. Daddy seemed so happy talking to his old friend. Papa didn't. Something strange was in the air between my dads. I know they had some marriage crises, but things this time seemed so out of place. I tried to talk about with Santana, but my sister was too focused on the trip.

Lars Nicoln and Susan have three kids: Eddie, the oldest, studied at Oxford University; Joss was a little older them me, and Carol, the youngest, was a pre-teen girl. In the company of the two older guys, Santana and I went to our first great rock festival: Reading. The only rock gigs we had gone so far was some collegiate festivals in Lima, where our friends from the jazz club used to play. Reading was another world. It was one of the most remarkable experiences in my young life and my sister's.

The Nicolns convinced our dads to allow us to spend a weekend in one of the most famous annual English Music Festivals. My dads were reluctant. We knew papa attended some great American festivals when he was on college. He had experiences with alcohol and sex on these occasions. Daddy wasn't a true rock fan, but he went to festivals and once told us about his experiences with drinks and drugs. He started smoking marijuana at 15 and only stopped when papa gave him an ultimatum. Daddy never said clearly, but it implied he experienced other substances on college.

Lars Nicoln ensured that his boys would take care of us and nothing bad would happen. Two days of debate later, Santana and I were traveling by car with Eddie, Joss, and Laura (Joss' best friend) to Reading. We listened only English band in the road and disused a lot about pop music. I've never thought my sister knew so many indie bands. She and Joss quickly developed a connection.

When we arrived in Reading, first we went to the hotel to register our entry. The boys had booked a room and three beds and we had to ask for extra mattresses. That was a strange experience sharing a room with people I've just met. I told myself it was the spirit of any rock festival.

When we got to the arena, my first time with a huge crowd of stranger types was terrifying. There was a guy with huge purple mohawk to put Noah's on shame. And also a girl with countless tattoos. Lima is a small city that never behaves types with half the strangeness like those. A crowd had gathered in front of the main stage where New Found Glory was on.

"Cool, isn't it?" Laura made a little talk pulled and offered me a can of beer.

"Unusual." I looked for my sister and she seemed very friendly with Joss.

"Don't you want a sip? Don't you drink?"

"I've drunk beer once."

"Then drink again. And if you are thirsty, it is best to take a sip of this beer because the line to buy drink is huge right now."

Laura had a point. I grabbed the can and took a sip. Then, another. And another one before returning the can. She grinned.

"I met a guy who has a tattoo of his mother painting." She casually pointed to a radon weird tattooed guy. "It took a month to finish, but it was so beautiful. Do you have tattoos?"

"No, I don't."

"I have two." She raised her shirt and revealed a delicate drawing of a star in tribal arrangements.

"What does it mean?"

"A tribute to my mother. My guiding star, you know? And I have one more here." She showed a rose on her shoulder. "I did with Joss and two other friends when we graduated from school this year."

"Are you going to college?"

"Westminster, do you know?" I waved negative. The only British Universities I heard about were Cambridge, Oxford and the Arts Institute of London. "I'll study in college of design and media, but I haven't decided the specific area yet. And you?"

"I still have two years of high school. I'll be a junior this year."

"Really?" She lit a cigarette. "How old are you again?"

"16 and a half."

"And your sister?"

"16 and a half... we're twins... complicated story."

"It has to do with your two dads, right?"

"It is!"

"It's so cool you have two dads. It's incredible. Really!"

Laura made me see the good side of those strangers in that huge rock festival. I found beauty in diversity, in the energy of the bands on stage, in the audience's excitement, in the small choreographies with raised arms . All were so beautiful. I was particularly delighted with the show Noah And The Wale in the second stage and had so much fun with the Offspring on the main stage.

Still on the first day, Santana tried her first marijuana's cigarette. I witnessed the scene. Joss lit the reefer, smoked a little, then offer it to us. Edie smoked, Laura refused, I refused, but Santana tried it. I waved her no, but she didn't listen to me. She shoked a little, Joss and Edie root for her, and then, she tried again.

"Do you smoke pot?" I asked Laura.

"Sometimes, but I'm not in the mood to be stoned."

"I'm glad…" Santana laughed already stoned and it annoyed me.

"Don't worry." Laura held my hand. "She will be ok. It's just experimentation. Nothing bad will happen. We will keep an eye on her, ok?"

I kept an eye in my sister enough to see her disappeared for a few moments in the arena with Joss. I was sure they had sex in some hole. I almost panicked when Santana gone, but Laura calmed me down. She said she knew Joss time enough to know his not an idiot. I had my doubts.

On the second day of festival, everything was familiar: the audience, what once was the lawn, the concerts, the breaks, the lines for everything. But one thing was different: my proximity to Laura. She was a strange figure with a pale skin, paler than Quinn's, blue eyes and curly dark hair. In an exotic way, she was beautiful and fascinating. I became mesmerized by her spontaneity and intelligence.

"Broadway?" She laughed while and I drank some beer. "Of course the British are the best in the theater!"

"Blasphemy!" I said.

"Who are you to speak blasphemies? The greatest writer of the universe was English! Tell me an American that matches with the old Will? And our actors are also the best ones."

"Come on. You're just pushing it."

"Julie Andrews, Kate Winslet, Jude Law, Sir Ian McKellen, Rachel Weisz, the cast of the Harry Potter movies!" She let out a belly laugh.

"Meryl Streep, Barbra Streisand, Gene Kelly, Judy Garland, Elizabeth Taylor..."

"Hey, I'm not an expert, but everybody knows that Elizabeth Taylor is English."

"Only born here, baby" I started laughing. We were tipsy with beer.

Bombay Bicycle Club started playing. Laura rocked an almost hypnotic way. She turned to me and smiled. Then, on the sound of "You Already Know", she put her lips on mine. I accepted. She wrapped me in her arms and deepened the kiss. I didn't know if it was the festival, the atmosphere, the beer, the music, or Laura herself, but I was floating as her tongue invaded my mouth.

"_Said love was painted gold / like all things growing old / the paint peels and slowly falls / you already know / you already know / you already know_" I hear the song.

Our flirtation lasted four amazing days. When we returned to London, Laura took me to places that locals liked to go. With her, I met Camden Town, where I found such exotic types as she and bought records and CDs like a lunatic. We walked hand in hand through the streets, we had ice cream, talked loudly, we kissed in public and I almost got a tattoo. I did things hardly I think to do in Lima with Finn. This big city freedom made me being more determined to get out of mediocrity and go to New York.

After we said goodbye in the evening before my family came back to United States, my penny dropped and I started to freak out of confusion and guilt. I had a boyfriend after all: Finn Hudson, the guy I fought so much to be with. Santana grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me against the wall.

"Listen well, minion. What we did in London, what we experienced in London, will stay in London. You had a great time here and miraculously didn't behave like Maria Von Trapp. So do yourself a favor: put it all in the back of your memory and don't feel guilty. You are 16 and you should be allowed to seize the moment at least once, por Dios."

"But what means I dated Laura? I never had attraction to the same sex before... Am I gay?"

"Your thing with Laura means you are not willing to limited yourself. So what you made out with a girl? That was a hottie one. Points to you, hobbit. We don't need to label ourselves. We have two dads, for God sake! One of them loved vaginas before date a guy. Don't think too much about it, Ray. We are what we are. That's it."

"... I think you're right."

"Of course I am! Now let's finish these damn suitcases because tomorrow morning we will be on the way back to losertown."

That was one of the best advice my sister ever gave me.

We arrived to our small Lima, Ohio, two weeks before starting a new school year. Until then, Santana returned to alternate between Brittany and Noah beds. And I continue my comfortable routine with Finn. On the weekend preceding our return to school, Finn spent the afternoon at my house and we enjoyed a good movie in the TV room with my papa making dinner and daddy taking care of the greenhouse. Santana was out at somebody's party. I was full of life, new experiences, and I still could enjoy the comfort of some certainties.

But something changed forever. I wasn't sure what.


	9. S2 - Civil War

**Civil War**

**(Rachel)**

I hate my sister.

Well, I really love her, but in that moment, I hated her with all my will. Brittany broke her heart and I've never seen someone so miserable as Santana. I tried to help her, I swear, instead my sister made my life a living hell.

In the beginning of our junior year, Santana started a rumor that she put silicone breast and showed up at school with a padded bra. It was enough to create mass psychological effect. But she didn't know Quinn was playing dirty and use the information to recover her place as captain of the cheerios. They fought in the hallway and I can't understand how they weren't suspended. Some students recorded everything on the phones and posted it on YouTube. You can view the fight in three different angles.

Glee Club remained my sister's greatest social vulnerability. Santana wasn't kidding when she said the choir was the best part of her day. I felt that her personal involvement was increasing. She was more involved, sang more. The other day, I caught her in the library searching Tina Turner's discography, which results in an explosive duet with Mercedes. I was truly impressed by my sister for the first time. She was good. Really good singer.

But that was the day when everything changed. Till there, my life was so normal if my boyfriend and my glee fellows.

Quinn? I think she tolerated me more. Not that we had become best friends, although I wouldn't mind. It was something I wanted, inclusive. I believe Quinn is a good company and she did have a good heart, but it is difficult to understand anything about the eternal captain of the cheerios. After Quinn gave birth, she was quieter in school, more discreet and even more isolated. Maybe she was sad. You couldn't guess what was going on in her head or even reading her body language. Quinn was always thinking twice before saying anything, even in her offenses: they were more subtle and elaborate. She didn't get better when she began dating the new boy Sam Evans and become the half of the most diabetic couple of school – words of Santana. I just think it made sense.

The other Glee Clubbers weren't like Quinn. I knew exactly what to expect from Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Noah, Kurt, Mike. Even Sam. He had predictable personality, demystified in a few weeks. He was a well-meaning guy, but constantly in search of popularity, like my boyfriend.

Sometimes it bothered me that Finn was so concerned on being a leader. Papa said Finn's IQ was inversely proportional of the volume of his body. So he didn't have many chances in the academic life post-High School. Not even as a football player because papa said he was pathetically mediocre, unable coordinates the arms with the legs. These times I realized where Santana's insults motivation come from. Anyway, Finn made sense in McKinley High and he was perfect for me. Moreover: he was a great drummer and could be a musician if he opened his mind to other possibilities. I know he isn't a great singer. He isn't a good football player, for sure, but Finn could go with me to New York as a musician if he could keep his mind opened.

One day, Brittany started dating Artie for real. When I heard, I saw the heavy clouds on the horizion. I remember that Santana gave me the car keys so I went home alone (that was never a good sign). She only appeared the other day at school and with a tremendous hangover. Apparently she tried to heal her pain with Noah, and she lied to my dads saying she was at Tina's doing some school project. Come on! Tina? Despite not having changed the relationship of friendship with Brittany and continued to act much the same way in school, Santana tried to deal her frustration on me. The offenses got worse and we could barely live in the same indoors.

"What the fuck, Rachel? You only invite the girls with boyfriends to help Kurt on school?" Santana shouted in my face as we got in our car. "what about Mercedes? His best friend? She can't be part of this ridiculous justice league because she doesn't have a boyfriend? Do you know how ridiculous and idiotic you are?"

"I refuse to talk to you while you're screaming. Loca!"

"¿Loca? Cuando llegamos a casa y me pongo mis manos sobre su cuello, entonces usted sabrá que eres loca." Somehow, Santana was even more frightening when screaming in Spanish.

"¿Sabes qué? Buena suerte con eso." I crossed my arms and looked at the window beside me.

I went home shaking with fear. I even considered jumping with the car in motion when Santana slowed down in the crosswalk. When we got home, I practically ran to Prudence and Clara, our laborers. They clean our house twice a week since I was five. More important: they always defended me from Santana. I was counted on that, because my sister seemed she would fulfill her promise and possible kill me. Instead, she stole ice cream from the fridge, puffing up the stairs, and locked herself in her room.

"Rachel, Santana! I'm home." Daddy liked to advertise. I hugged him and he kissed the top of my head. "How was school today, sweet pie?"

"It was another day I thought Santana would kill me."

"What happened to your sister these days? Yesterday, she refused dinner at Breadstixs."

"She's hurt because of Brittany." I simplified the case.

"Still?"

"I think it will take a while and we all will pay the price."

…

**(Quinn)**

The words my mom said few months ago echoed every day in my head.

"_Your father won't pay for your college, Quinnie. I am so sorry we don't have enough money anymore. I really am sorry but I think you should start considering the Community College._"

I couldn't be one more Lima loser. I didn't want my mother's fate, who always complied with the mediocre life in this city. The only minimum chance I had to get out of here with some security would be through a scholarship, and the shortest path was Sue Sylvester. The coach's influence could ensure some university in Midwest, especially in Louisville. It could be anyone that I would take it.

That's why I dropped Santana from the cheerios. I just had to use against her the same gossip she herself spread in the Facebook: silicone breast. Obviously that was a lie. I knew her dads wouldn't consent for surgery of this nature, especially her doctor dad. But the gossip was enough to convince Sue Sylvester that Santana has a huge image problem thus, she couldn't be the captain anymore. In the same day, my main adversary was in the base of the pyramid. Santana did a great job as captain. Too bad she was on my way.

Then, I needed to regain my popularity. The best way to speed up the process was to get a cute boyfriend. The new boy, Sam Evans, was perfect. Ironically, I had the push and support of Rachel Berry-Lopez and Finn Hudson. I didn't know the reasons for them to do that. I think they just wanted keep Sam in the choir. Not that Rachel would care about my "happiness". I didn't want to feed my hopes. The fact was: Rachel was still with Finn.

At least Sam was a good guy. Somewhat naive and sometimes full of himself. He kissed reasonably well, established a reasonable dialogue and was a quarterback who really knew how to play. Those were everything that Finn Hudson had ever able to be. It wasn't a sacrifice to be with Sam, but he wasn't what I wanted. My boyfriend had my attention, but not my love.

"Hi Quinn." Rachel approached with a grin.

"What do you want this time?"

"Who said I want something?"

"Lopez 2, cut the crap. Every time you come around me these days, was or to ask me for favors or try to manipulate me."

"I never try to manipulate you." She pretended the shock.

"Because you can't." I approached her like a predator. She was so… helpless… so tempting. I could try to kiss her, but I held myself. "Don't you understand that I am the one who chooses to assign or not your calls?" Her eyes widened. I felt o bit of fear from her. It was good. She needed to understand that I am the HBIC of this school. That was my role and my opponent was Santana Berry-Lopez. Not her. "What do you need?" I took a step back.

"Santana."

"What about her? Is she hitting on your man? Finn has always had a thing for her." I teased.

"She's getting out of hand at home and at school. I need someone to break her a little bit and the only person strong enough on this school is you! Isn't she your great rival? Do something!"

I started laughing. How ironic, I suddenly was the solution for the Berry-Lopez sisters' problems.

"What's so funny?" Rachel frowned.

"I won't do it."

"How so?"

"Santana can be down right now. Moreover, she is still one of the main cheerios and I need her more or less motivated. And I am not willing to earn a slap in the face so soon. Sorry, Lopez 2, but you have to find another way to deal with your sister."

"Please Quinn. I'm desperate."

"It's easier you break Brittany and Artie up. Then your problems will be solved."

"I..." Her eyes widened. "How do you know?"

"The question is: who doesn't know?" I raised my face. "That's not my problem."

Thanks to the good Jesus, that problem wasn't mine. I found Sam in the school hallway and kissed him. Good to have a man like him at my feet. He was strong and I needed some arms to help on the moving. My mom sold our house and bought another near Lima Heights Adjacent. See the sweet irony: I always rolled my eyes because of Santana's strange pride for that awful neighborhood, even if she lives on the other side of town. Now I was moving near there, to live in a small one-story house.

My mother started working as a seamstress and I did small jobs. I've been working as nanny, school tutoring, and a neighbor once paid me $50 to photograph his barbecue birthday party. I tried to work as a waitress, but it last one week to nevermore.

"You'll even help you move?" I asked my new boyfriend.

"Of course! I promised, I fulfill."

"Great." I kissed him. "I need you at three." And left him behind.

…

**(Rachel)**

Santana took Finn's virginity! Finn had sex with Santana in a dirty hotel room a week after he broke up with me. Santana and Finn. As much as he might see logical arguments like: I was with Jesse when it happened, the fact of my own sister having sex with my boyfriend always came to mind. It was revolting! It was disgusting!

The bomb erupted in the worst way. First Kurt abandoned us because of Karofsky's bully. Then, Mr. Schue announced Barbie and Ken as the duo for the ballad of the Sectional. Blasphemy! Quinn has a sweet and beautiful voice, but she is far from being good enough to be soloist in a competition. And Sam? Gorgeous to look at, but he was only the fourth among the best male voices of the choir behind Finn, Artie and Noah. I took the competition very seriously and had little patience with the amateur vision of Mr. Schue.

Of course I fought with the teacher in front of the choir. He wasn't make sense, especially since it was a vital step to National's. Finn was with me. Even a slow guy like him understood perfectly when it was time to use the best weapons the group. I had to accept Santana as a soloist because my sister can deal with competitions and she has a strong voice. But Quinn? And Sam? Never.

When Santana called Finn a hypocrite, it was the last straw for all the heavy verbal attacks. So I called her stupid, which she isn't, but I had perfect idea of how much she was particularly sensitive to this offense. All because of Brittany. My sister spent almost entire school life defending her friend, so Santana didn't think twice when she shot the "secret". But when she did, her voice was so calm, that I trembled at the base of the spine.

"So hobbit." Santana used the retro display to fix her lipstick. "Excited about my first solo?"

"You could have the dignity of not talking to me?" I fought back my tears. It was so humiliating to be with her.

"As you wish." she gave the ignition and we went home in silence.

My relationship with Finn was in crisis. What sickened me most was watching Finn smiled to Santana's every little hint. I wondered what I had done to deserve the demon sleeping in the next room? My life was a mess. Even Noah rejected the chance to take my virginity. Is this real life?

The Sectional happened in the Lima's Public Hall, near the City Hall. It was a prominent place where we can seen the greatest spectacles in our small town. I wasn't thrilled with a competition for the first time in my life: I hated being just a coadjutant for my traitor sister. The best thing that happened that day was meeting Kurt, talked with him and had realized that yes, I had a friend.

The friendship with Kurt was almost the opposite of my relationship with the coral. The fact that everyone knew what had happened between Finn and Santana was like receiving stab in the back. You know the story of the betrayed woman is the last to know? Perfect example here. Finn just said the obvious. Of course I was giving a fuck for his virginity. My problem was the fact that he slept with my sister. Did Finn, for all his slowness, not understand that the worst thing he could do to me was get involved with her? My sister?

I still got that stage. Not because of Mr. Schue's demagogue speech. I was being a professional. I would encounter more intense fights on Broadway five minutes before going on stage and sing like there's no tomorrow. I was supporting Quinn Fabray and Sam Evans who couldn't even shade my duet with Finn. I smiled behind so many people and made the choreography perfectly, even being a mediocre number that caused hyperglycemia in half the auditorium.

I helped Santana wear that stupid hat. I did my part. "Valerie" saved us. Without my sister's vigorous performance and the choreography by Brittany and Mike, we would have lost. And even with the joy of victory, I didn't celebrate with the choir. I was still mad. So I ran to Kurt and practically begged him to take me out. I knew that my parents were in the audience, as always, but I didn't want to see them. I just wanted to get away from there.

"Could we go somewhere else?" I begged to Kurt.

"Pizza?" He forced a smile. He had the sensitivity to see how much I was badly in need of a friend.

"I know a great place that serves vegan and regular pizza." I thanked him with a look.

Unlike Breadstixs, the Azzurri was a smaller hidden restaurant. Its access was a hatch where we go down the stairs to the basement of the building. Azzurri was in downtown, across the bohemian street frequented by college students and young adults. High school students, like me and Kurt, were strange presences. But the food worth the crossed eyes.

"How did you know this restaurant? It's Amazing!" Kurt was admired for the daring decoration, inspired by the Italian football teams.

"My cousin Julio brought Santana and I here once."

"Is he cute?"

"Yes, and totally straight."

"Do you have another cute cousin? A gay one?"

"I have no idea! August is 10 and Simon is only 2. Daddy is the only son. So, no cousins in the Berry side."

We didn't talk about problems. We laughed about Blaine's starched hair, how Dayton Academy looked like a gay Hogwarts (and we'd be definitely Gryffindor), the Broadway musicals and the best divas. I talked about the trips I made abroad. Kurt, who never left the United States, said he would like to know Milan because Italians are more attractive than the French. I wanted to talk about Laura, but I was afraid of what he would think about me betraying his brother.

Kurt dropped me home ten past eleven and I found my dads waiting for me in the living room with unfriendly faces.

"Where were you, miss?" It was clear that papa was trying hard not to burst out.

"With Kurt Hummel. We ate some pizza in downtown… to celebrate."

"Rachel... is not that we don't trust you." Daddy tried to be more moderate. "But we can't reach you by phone, you left us worried by leaving the theater without a warning."

I quickly checked my backpack. My phone was on silence and would be a waste of time to check the amount of missed calls.

"Sorry." I showed the phone. "I didn't listend the calls."

"Go to your room and have a rest." Papa spoke calmly paused. "And I will have a serious talk with you and your sister. This unbearable situation in this house ends here and now."

I just noted and went to my room worried about tomorrow. The last time we had a serious conversation with Dr. Juan Lopez, Santana and I stayed two weeks without internet and yours phones were confiscated. We still had to do all the housework under the supervision of Clara and Prudence. But what really worried me wasn't the punishment: it was the psychological damage. Papa was good at making others feel guilty even being right.


	10. S2 - Santana's Logic Sence

**SANTANA'S LOGIC SENSE**

**(Rachel)**

I woke up late. I skipped my half hour daily exercise and went straight to the shower. I crossed with Santana at different times, but we didn't say a word to each other. Neither at home nor at the synagogue.

We got home at half past ten in the morning. Or nearly so. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the black Honda Civic in the garage, and try to prepare myself for Dr. Juan Lopez's Homeric scolding and it was always worse when daddy was out to be our defense attorney. I got off the car shaking. Santana wasn't much better. We entered the house cautiously, with the innocent idea that if we keep quiet, not breathing, maybe my papa wouldn't notice our presence.

"Buenos dias, hijas." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath waiting for the scream. "Sígueme." My father said with such calm which made me cry.

We crossed the garden to the pool house. My father asked us to enter the bathroom, which was the lowest of the entire house. Santana and I didn't understand why.

"Pai, por qué estamos aquí en el cuarto de baño?" I asked.

"Tengo un problema importante a resolver en el hospital. Vuelvo en un par de horas, pero hasta entonces, ustedes dos se hablar y resolver sus problemas aquí, encerrada en el baño."

"Papa, please, no! Santana will kill me!"

"Hable! Cuando regrese, voy a abrir la puerta."

My heart raced when I heard the click of the key locking the door. And we stayed in a small area of two by three meters square occupied by a green toilet, a sink of the same color and a tiny shower stall. Worse, I was locked with the last person on earth that I would want stay in that situation.

"There's no way to skip the window." Santana analyzed. She was the master of escapism. "We could be hurt if we leave there and it will be impossible to go back in the same way without papa find out. I don't want piss him even more."

"What about the lock. You know how to open locks with wire."

"Shorty, are you seeing any wire here? And think a bit: I take a half hour, but I open the damn door, we leave and takes care of our life and, in the lower sign of papa, we run back and locks ourselves again, right? Except you forgot that today Prudence are here to do that extra. In certain papa warned her. So relax, sit there on the floor and wait! Maybe, take a nap. Then we will pretend to like each other for a week. Deal?"

"Deal!"

Santana opened the tempered glass door of the shower and closed it behind. I sat on the floor against the bathroom door. We stayed like that for a long time: I was looking at toilet and Santana at the shower.

"Our anniversary is in 17 days." I couldn't stay long without talking, and casual conversations were better than the awkward silence.

"I know!"

"Next Sunday we will light the first candle of the menorah."

"I know!"

"We'll be in Cleveland next weekend to celebrate Hanukkah."

"Rachel! Can you shut up?"

I kept silence. Not for long. Papa had a point in putting us on this ridiculous situation: we have no way of avoiding another, trapped in the lower house bathroom. Santana spent weeks treading on me, talking barbarities, and even hinting with my boyfriend in my face. That wasn't normal and I deserved an explanation. I plucked up courage and blurted the question that was stuck in my throat.

"Why did you have sex with Finn?"

Santana wasn't surprised. She looked at me and shrugged her shoulders as it was no big deal.

"Everyone was in that crazy Madonna's week and coach had said something about maintaining dominion over men... so silly."

"My God! What Sue Sylvester knows about men? Or relationships?"

"Good question." She laughed a little and then looked back at the shower. "It was Brittany's idea. That crazy one has suggested me to take his virginity because if I dominate the most popular kid in school, then I would be legendary. I accept the challenge."

"Did you even think about me or my feelings when you just decide to hook up with Finn in a cheap hotel room just because Brittany said? And why everything Brittany says to you is like an order?"

"You're not seeing the big picture here." Santana raised her voice a little bit and finally looked at me. "I didn't think about your feelings, and Finn had a point: you weren't together at that time. I did on impulse, ok? What you still don't understand is that I wasn't alone in that bed and I didn't do anything he didn't want to. Do you want more information? Well, it's true it didn't take two minutes to make him in."

"But you had to flirt with him before. A couple of hours before he break up with me, to be exact."

"The first time I hit on him, it was Sue Sylvester's order to destabilize the Glee Club. I just wanted to make her happy to consecrate my place as captain. And again, I didn't break you up. He thought you was hindering his popularity, so he gave you a foot in your ass. But I can assure you one thing: my past actions were far more altruistic."

"Altruistic? You spent this past week hitting on my boyfriend in my face. You was low! Usted actuó como una puta!"

Santana opened the glass door in a second, and the next one, she was pinning me against the bathroom door with her hands on my neck.

"Take it back" Santana was almost growling, but I wasn't afraid. No more. Not about this.

"No!"

"Take it back Rachel, or I won't answer for myself."

"No!" I said firmer, louder. "You can hit me all you want, but I won't take it back. You've hurt me more than you could do physically."

Santana took two steps back. She lowered the lid of the toilet accent and sat there. I stood against the door and sat on the floor again.

"Your ex-boyfriend is a hypocrite." Santana said again after an almost deathly silence. "I'm glad that idiot left you, even more because you cheated him twice with Puck and that British chick."

"Sure! Now you can jump into his bed without guilt."

"Rachel, you dated Finn for how long? Five months?"

"Six months."

"Whatever. I can talk about what I saw, and what I saw was that the perfect Hudson never had the dignity to defend you in any offense that I or the rest of the choir directed to you. He never came to me and asked to stop flirting with him. He hadn't the courage to tell you that he wasn't a virgin and let you making ideal scenarios like an idiot. He never supported any of your ideas, even the interesting ones, unless those that put him in a prominent position. When you felt good once in a lifetime and dressed sexy, he was unsure and pulled you down. That's just the facts relating directly to you. There are several other things I know about Finn."

"Please!" My tone was ironic. "Continue."

"Kurt."

"Kurt? Finn dedicated a song to him at Carole and Burt's wedding."

"How heroic, isn't? I know the stories. Mercedes is not exactly good at keeping secrets. But we manage to keep them among the glee clubbers and far from you." She pointed out to me. "Because you can't keep a secret. You freak out and, in two seconds, you make something stupid."

"I can keep secrets!"

"Quinn says so! You made a trap in front of everyone about Beth's father. And all because you wanted her boyfriend."

"Finn had every right to know."

"But it was up to Quinn, and only to her. God! Rachel, I've got a relationship for almost two years with Puck, still I kept my mouth shut."

"Relationship? You get naked in regularly basis with Noah and Brittany for almost two years. This is not a relationship. This is just whoring around. Oh yes, now you also like to sleep with somebody else's boyfriend for a change."

"Please, don't make me hit you." Santana took a deep breath before continuing. "Finn is so heroic! He dressed like Lady Gaga to defend Kurt from Karofsky. Remember when he threatened to hit that caveman them said we were a team and bla bla bla? This only happened after Finn took a Homeric lecture from Mr. Hummel because he called Kurt a fag. When Sam joined glee, Kurt wanted make a duet with him, but Finn told him not to because Kurt was gay and could drove off Sam from the club. That's why you and Finn made that devil match maker plan to Sam and Quinn. Shame on you, Rachel!"

"Sam and Quinn look happy together!" – I defend myself.

"At the Hummels wedding party, Finn serenades for Kurt and that was beautiful. But you conveniently forgot that the black eye was Sam's, Puck had bruised ribs, Mike had a bump on his head and, my god, even Artie in a wheelchair defended Kurt. Oh yes... I remember very well Finn's absence when Mr. Hummel had that heart attack. But then, Finn learned the lesson, said something sweet and cheap, and became the hero. How easy is that? And these were the stories about Kurt. I could tell some more about how Finn ignores Tina and Mercedes. Or how much he cared about Mike. Still, he is the leader, the hero. I can tell you. We have a plenty time before papi unlock the door."

"You talk as if the others were perfect and Finn, the villain." I wiped the tears from my face.

"They aren't. There aren't absolute heroes or villains. The difference is that nobody else is trying to play the school hero in our club. Maybe Sam. But I don't blame your darling. Everyone has priorities, isn't true? Some people think the prime of life is high school and want to be remembered for that time. This probably is Finn's case. But so what? He isn't the only one, and even I recognize that he has good intentions. Now what gets me nuts is watching you blind and swallowing all the assaults and idiocies of that asshole."

"Yeah, you incidentally, you surely swallowed a lot of Noah."

"Yes, I have swallowed his sperm sometimes, but his shit, sister, never! You're right: I don't date Puck. We are just good bedfellows sharing some jealousy. Still, it's more sincere than your relationship with Finn."

"So you were playing the school whore all this time just to show me the truth? Your truth, by the way." I raised my head and stared at Santana, making it clear that she should do better to convince me that she was the good girl.

"Yes and no... on one hand, I feel pleasure in annoying you and that will never change. On the other hand, you're my sister, you are a Berry-Lopez, you are tough, you know what you want since you were two, and truth be told, you are the star of this family. You never lowered your head because of the slushies or Quinn's heavy teasers just because she is a frustrated and unhappy girl. It wraps my stomach to see you crawling by someone who doesn't deserve you." Santana's voice choked more, gets more emotional and I could see her eyes getting moist. "I do love you, Ray. You are above all that shit."

"Sorry Santana, but it's very hard to believe everything you said." I crossed my arms and looked away for the textured paint. If I saw Santana's face, my heart would melt and I would forgive her in two seconds. I couldn't leave things so easily. Not when she hurt me so much.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. None of us could face another. All I could hear was the external noise.

"I'll leave you and Finn alone, okay. I swear I'm not going to get into your life." She broke the silence.

"Thank you for finally understand!" I raised his voice slightly.

"But listen this very well, Ray: think twice before running into Finn's arms and beg for a pardon that you should give him."

Santana grabbed a handful of toilet paper and started pinking it, lost in her own thoughts. I was making great efforts to absorb everything she had said. It was difficult to accept the logic coming from someone who hurt you so much. Especially if that someone was my own sister. Internally, I was fighting a lot of things, people, facts. It was hard!

"And Brittany?" Again I broke the long silence. "You say what I should do, but I don't see you with that same strength to fight for her."

"Again: different cases. Britt started dating Artie was my entire fault. I didn't have the courage to give her what she needed, to take our relationship in public. And Artie was available, desperate for a girlfriend and a little romance. I hate the idea, but Artie is good for Britt. Then I am holding on, I'll be the best friend she deserves and needs. For now, I accept. For now..."

"I always thought you were end game." I smiled.

"Who knows? As daddy says: a river just stops running when it dries completely. But..."

"... Until then, much water passes under the bridge." I finished the sentence.

"That's it, hermana."

"I wish luck to you and Britt. You look great together."

"I know, but it is difficult to risk my neck in that school. I am the daughter of two men and this already handful. Imagine if I publicly take my affair with Brittany? Those guys would end me."

"It's not what our dads would say to you. They would encourage you to do the right thing with Britt."

"But our dads still hear horrible things, you know that very well. How many times have we heard Mrs. Frampton suggested that the State should take our guard because our dads were going to 'infect' us? They are tough and an inspiration, but I'm not so brave and I'm not ready."

Santana had a point. She had several points. Rare were the times when we had a frank conversation, but they always made me think. Finn wasn't a perfect boyfriend but I loved him. I acknowledged, however, that we needed a break. I needed to compose some ideas and goals. Santana helped me to see it in an unconventional way. Anyway, that's what Santana does.

Shortly after, we heard the sound of the key and the click of the door being unlocked.

"Your father had an emergency surgery." Dad smiled cheerfully. "I hope you are ok and talked about your differences."

"Yes." Santana slipped her arm around daddy's waist. "We talked."

"Great! Lunch's on."

The best news of the day for sure. My stomach was complaining of prolonged fasting. I took Santana's hand and made her wait a little in the pool house.

"What, Ray?"

"I take that back. I'm not saying you are forgiven... but yes, I take that back."

Santana gave a half smile.

"Thank you!"


	11. S2 - The wost day

**THE WOST DAY**

**(Santana)**

Hanukkah at Berry's home was one of the most constant family festivities I knew. Zaide took advantage of papa's presence to ensure free medical consultations. He is diabetic, which was the target group of my father's research. Operate diabetics was more delicate and risky, so he, as a general surgeon, wants to find a way to promote faster healing in a patient with this disease. Zaide was fully aware of my father's work and took advantage: he shows all the medical exams and asked about predictions. Until this part, everything is okay. But these two argue every time Zaide implied that I should take over his business. Daddy didn't like the pressure either. He suffered it when he was younger and didn't want the same for me.

"I was talking to my friend, Caleb Weiz." Zaide sat on his leather armchair and lit a pipe. "He reaffirmed me that the Stuyvesant's admission tests are still standing."

"I don't think this is a matter to discuss this holiday, avi." Dad was always annoyed by the Zaide's intrusions, especially in front of papi.

"But this stubbornness to not talk about her proper education is eating her precious time. Santana is not an ordinary girl. She should be in New York studying in one of the best schools of the country."

"Zaide! Please!" I almost begged the adults in the room to change the subject. "I'm happy where I am."

"I say what's right, yeled." Zaide ignored me and focused on the adults. "I took every opportunity I could for you. But I see you don't do the same for your bat."

"Sorry Joel, but this is not an issue that concerns you." Papi punched the arm of the sofa. "Hiram and I are perfectly reasonable in all that concerns our daughters and, on behalf of our friendship and peace, please, stop."

"Joel." Bubbee nudged Zaide. "You promised!"

Zaide faced bubbee's intense green eyes and fell silent. The whole family breathed relieved. My grandparents never discussed about Rachel's Broadway dreams. Maybe because my sister was so scatterbrained. For sure, they thought the stage and dazzled celebrity life was the best for her. I haven't had the same luck. Zaide insists I should fully inherit the textile factories and take the family business, so he finally could retire and take a cruise around the world with bubbee. It's his dream I go to Harvard and graduate with honors and merits. I wasn't sure if it was mine. I was focused on other things and on Brittany.

My theory was that Zaide wanted me to make all the dreams he drew for dad and hadn't materialized. He was poor, had working since he was seven and couldn't go to college. Daddy said Zaide got frustrated when he chose Botany on OSU instead of Economy or Business. Rachel was a nullity, then his hopes was on me. Zaide openly said that he would pay all of my studies if I choose The Business School.

Bubbee hated any discussion involving my future. She was always quiet, and looks disinterested. A strong image I had from bubbee, besides the intense green eyes, was the austere act, although she melted with Rachel. Sometimes I think she doesn't like me that much because I am not her biological granddaughter. People say I'm the female version of Dr. Juan Lopez, and Rachel is daddy's biological daughter for sure. Look at her nose! But we don't care about it. Zaide doesn't care. Abuela doesn't care and so the other Lopezes. Instead, it seems genetic is important to bubbee.

It's a tradition to celebrate the last day of Hanukkah in Cleveland with my grandparents. Zaide, Dad and I wear our kippah. The little hat was a symbology that God is always above us. Jewish women haven't such obligation, but let's say I was sentenced. I made a treat when I was eight and Rabbi Amnon ratted me out. Dad grounded me. Because of this, for revenge, I invaded his bedroom during an anniversary lunch and stole all his boxers. I took everything to the winter garden and put fire on them. I almost burned the house in the process. Dad was so ashamed that he beat me up for the first time in my life, and Rabbi Amnon said that from now on I would have to use the kippah. Even as a woman, I had clear need to remember that God is above me. What can I do?

We prayed at the table, bubbee asked Rachel to sing Jewish songs at her Steinway black piano. We lit the last candle of the menorah and then we have a dinner. Then, we exchanged gifts, as Christmas. Every year was the same thing and I loved it.

The day after the Hanukkah, shortly before returning to Lima, I found zaide in his office. I knocked on the door and walked slowly, respecting his space.

"Boker tov, Zaide."

"Boker tov, Santana." He smiled and waved me to sit down.

"Working on Sunday?"

"Just checking some numbers."

"Can I help?" I knew it would regret, but couldn't avoid. Biologic or not, he was my dear grandfather and I loved him so much. Zaide gave me some spreadsheets full of numbers. I read them as well.

"What do you see?"

"The factories are stable. But it seems you need to make some cuts to improve finances. Isn't what this chart says?" I pointed and Zaide agreed. "Resign some employees is the most obvious way. On the other hand, seems cruel." He smiled and took off his glasses.

"What would you do?"

"I don't know. Maybe I would invest in employee training to improve the productivity before cutting heads. I also would think of other ways to optimize the industrial process. A little advertisement can help too."

"It's a possibility." He took back the sheets. "You're a natural, don't you know?"

"I just can read through the numbers. It's nothing that special, zaide."

"You should be in New York, Santana."

"I want to." I was sincere. "But not before school. I have my friends, my home, my comfort."

"Don't you think one of the best schools in the country worth the sacrifice?"

"I don't know."

"You could go to Harvard. It's a waste you spending time in that village."

"I can still go to Harvard... okay that could be hard to be accepted with cheerios and coral in my extracurricular activities."

"Stuyvesant could ease your way. Don't waste the opportunity. My friend assured me that you will have all assistance and he even could offer an internship at his company. "

"Zaide, everything is very tempting, but don't want to think about it now."

"I will try to keep this window open as long as I can, Santana. Please, think about it."

He stood and gave a pat on my head. Zaide wasn't satisfied with my reluctant posture, but he wouldn't push me beyond what is acceptable. By midafternoon, after recovering from a great lunch, we were ready to leave. I hugged my grandparents, and the rest of my family did the same. Dad was always the last one. He said: "I love you" to his parents before getting in the car back to Lima.

…

**(Rachel)**

I was so excited to present my proposals to Regionals to my glee fellows. I took some time during the Hanukkah to research some things on internet about a new musical inspired by rock bands. And I also watched some video clips and took some ideas to costumes, and possible arrangements to seize the five strongest voices of our team: Finn, Artie, Santana, Mercedes and, obviously, me. I would show Mr. Schue that we could be epic and technically perfect without losing our heart. But first, I had advanced calculus class, the last before the lunch break. Santana was distracted and I thought she wouldn't disdain the teacher this time. Thank God. The last time, she was almost suspended. Quinn was beside her, Mike was on the last row and I, as always, sat ahead. I tried paying attention but, somehow, I couldn't concentrate. My sixth sense told me that something was about to happen.

"Santana and Rachel Berry-Lopez." Ms. Pillsbury interrupted the lesson. "Could you get your books and come with me?"

My heart was pounding. I looked Santana at two chairs behind me and she had lost color. I looked at the other students in our class. Quinn and Mike were with a curious brow. I packed my things as fast as I could and held my sister's hand when she passed me. She was cold.

"Do you know what happened?" I whispered to Santana, but she made me negative sign.

Ms. Pillsbury walked us to the lockers and asked to put all our stuffs in. At this point, I was about to throw up of anxiety in the hallway.

"Ms. Pillsbury, could you tell what's going on?" My voice was almost a whisper.

"I'll explain later."

"No! Explains now!" Santana was demanded. "Don't you see this suspense is killing us?"

"The hospital called." I leaned in Santana because my legs were wobbly. "Please girls. Come up to my room."

"For God's sake, what happened?" Tears already ran on our faces.

"Did we could..." Our guiding insisted.

"No!" Santana grabbed her arm forcefully. "Just tell me what happened because I don't know if I can take two steps beyond here."

"There was an accident... with your father, Hiram. I don't know more details, girls, I swear. Your other father, Dr. Lopez, is currently in the operating room..."

I heard nothing more.

…

**(Santana)**

Hiram Joel Berry was born on August 14, 1966, in New York City. He was the son of the blue-collar worker Joel Berry and the jazz pianist Sarah Berry. At that time, one of the largest metropolises in the world was exploding on a social and culture revolution. The Beatles released the revolutionary "Revolver", by far my favorite of them. Lennon said Beatles was more popular than Jesus Christ. Even in religious controversy, Bob Dylan was called Judas by playing electric guitar. Neil Young created Buffalo Springfield. Elizabeth Taylor was in the cinemas with "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf", a film that would give her an Oscar. Our soldiers were in Vietnam, women burned bras in the streets and began to wear miniskirts.

Of course daddy couldn't remember all that. He was an 80's guy and had a crush on Simon Le Bon. He enjoyed a nice childhood in Brooklyn without luxuries, but the bread was always on the table. When he was nine, the Berries moved to Cleveland, Ohio. Joel Berry had saved enough money to open a small textile factory. Zaide also counted on Lionel Weiz's founding, his former boss. The business thrives in the Midwest and, gradually, the young Hiram begins to enjoy a comfort life. He was accepted to Ohio State University in Columbus, where he studied botany against his father's wishes. Daddy said once that the day he left home to live in a dorm at OSU was one of the happiest days of his youth. As if his lungs filled with freedom.

Still in college, he came out the closet to his father. The news wasn't well received by Joel and they no longer speak for years. Still, her mother called him every week to make sure he was ok. On Columbus, Hiram met a Buckeyes football player and future doctor Juan Ernesto Lopez. They met at a party and become friends. At another party, Hiram tried to kiss Juan and ended with a broken nose. A year later, he won the boyfriend.

Hiram and Juan performed a symbolic marriage witnessed by a few friends. At the time, Juan was a resident doctor and Hiram worked at the Cleveland Museum of Natural History. One day, they decided to form a family with their own kids. They searched for a donor while saved money to pay for surrogacy and all fertilization treatment. They found the young Shelby Corcoran, only 20 years old, in a catalog of a clinic and contacted her. Shelby agreed to donate her eggs and conceive for the money that would let her try her luck on Broadway. Well, you know the story.

Since then, we form a nice unconventional family. We have highs and low as everybody else, but we loved each other so much that we could overcome any crisis. But it was broken near Rachel's and mine 17th anniversary.

That day began like any other: bathroom, fight with Rachel, sleepy. At breakfast, papi ate scrambled eggs, I filled my belly of cereal with berries while Rachel and daddy ate that rabbit food they loved. As we had our breakfast, we talked about the day's schedule. Rachel and I had our last school week before the holiday's break. Papa would just go back to the hospital in the early morning. Dad had mentioned that he would visit a farm for the consulting work he was doing for extra money. I and my sister said goodbye to our parents with a routine peck on their lips.

Hiram Berry, daddy, said goodbye to his husband, promising get home shortly after lunch. He hitched a ride with the owner of the farm he would visit. They left the city limits and took the road. Apparently the truck blew a tire on a slippery road. The car flipped several times and fell on a small bluff.

While paramedics communicated the nearest hospital (at Lima), papi was warned about the accident. He decided to run over there and do something. He couldn't try to save daddy by ethical issues, but he chose to try to save the farmer instead to simply wait in the hall doing nothing. The two arrived at the hospital almost together. Dad had several injuries and internal bleeding. He was on an operating table while papi took care of the other man in the next room. Dad was fighting for his life on the operate table, meanwhile a nurse called to school.

Rachel fainted once she heard the news. I just stay stand because I had to support to my sister, being the strong one. I bent down beside her, straightened her body and lifted her legs as papi taught. Rachel quickly returned to consciousness, but I forced her to stay a few minutes lying, even with some curious suckers down the hall. Ms. Pillsbury asked for help and returned with Sue Sylvester on her side.

"We need to take Rachel to the infirmary." Ms. Pillsbury was distressed.

"No!" I said firmly. "We are going to the hospital to see my father."

"But Rachel can't…"

"She can do it." I challenged, despite being on the verge of collapse. "It's our father, coach."

"S, you need to see what is best for your sister and you right now." Sylvester insisted with an unusual concerned voice.

"I know what's best for my family. Hospital. Now." I yelled.

I helped my sister to get up. Rachel was confused, but I couldn't stop to explain things. I passed her arm around my shoulders and held firmly by the waist. We walked slowly to the parking lot and Ms. Pillsbury gave us a ride. I had to thank her, because wouldn't be able to drive. My sense was that the path was too long, but we got there.

Once the receptionist saw us, she asked to enter the private surgical center's waiting room. There was a procedure to send the relatives to the place in question, but we had the privilege of being daughters of the chief surgeon, so we just jump some bureaucracies.

The room was nothing special. There was a TV, couches, a desk with magazines from three years ago, a water filter, a picture on the wall and a dumpster. I made Rachel sat beside me on the couch. She was feeling nausea and dizziness. I stayed the whole time with an arm around her and sometimes forced her to strut her head against my shoulder. The farmer's family arrived and I didn't know if I should be solidarity with them or just hate the guy who was at the wheels. Deep down, I knew the accident was just a fatality.

Time seemed parked. The minutes not spent, the hours seemed like days. But I stood there patiently until a resident doctor came. I looked at him and held my breath. I prayed for him to bring good news.

"We managed to stop the internal bleeding and stabilize him..." The doctor said and I did as much effort to fish the context of information. It was so difficult to concentrate. "Dr. Collins is in the room starting the procedures to end the surgery..." And he looked at the Pillsbury. "Mr. Berry needs blood donors. It's a shame our stocks is low."

"I'll donate!" I said immediately

"I don't think you have enough weight." The doctor warned as he glanced at my sister. "Yet, as I recorded well, I think your bloody type is B+, and we need O+ right know."

"My blood type is O+" Ms. Pillsbury volunteered. "I can donate."

"Thank you!" I whispered.

"What about you, Rachel? You don't look well." The doctor put his hand on my sister's face.

"She fainted before we got here." I said.

"I will ask to put you in the infirmary. You need to take a serum with a medicine to relieve this discomfort."

"No!" She replied firmly, which surprised me. "You bring the serum and the medicines that I need... but I'll stay here."

"Nonsense. We will keep you informed here or there."

"Ray..."

"Okay, all right."

Ms. Pillsbury reported that there were some people waiting for news on the waiting room, and our friends were aware of the situation. I didn't want our friends there. I picked up the phone and called Mr. Schue. I thanked their concern, but I didn't want to deal with anybody's pity in the hospital. I remember what happened with Kurt: we pitying on him and Finn Hudson paying to grab my sister's boobs. No, thank you. We knew later that some daddy's students and coworkers came to donate blood and wait for news, even if we were not willing to see them. It was touching.

"Do you think he'll make it?" Rachel asked.

"Of course." I joked and shook her hand. "Who else will watch sci-fi with me?"

Papi showed up in the infirmary. He was exhausted and devastated. Ms. Pillsbury left us alone and I thanked her for being with us all this time. First papa hugged me, then Rachel.

"Mr. Richards will survive… I fixed him. But your dad… Hiram came..." He paused as if he had to remember the words. Rachel and I began to cry harder. "…in bad shape. Somehow, his safe belt broke and the paramedics found him out of the car. The team managed to stabilize him, and now the machines are doing their job to sustain his life until the doctors can do other surgery he needs. Hiram is fighting, girls. He is fighting hard, I know that. But if he makes it, he won't be able to walk anymore."

My father broke down in front of us. It was heartbreaking and scary at the same time. He was the kind of man that controls his emotions. Yes, I had seen him cry, but discrete tears. I've never seen him so open and desperate. I embrace him, and we cried together. I felt involved in other arm. Rachel had ripped the serum to join us.

…

**(Rachel)**

Ms. Pillsbury was kind enough to take us home in the afternoon. The first thing we did was take a bath together to save time. The last time Santana and I shared the shower, we were ten. We ran to our bedrooms to put some clothes. My father said that we should stay home, but we wouldn't listen. Santana wear a pair of jeans, shirt and shoes in addition to the winter coat. I also changed for an almost equal outfit. I would have found it an interesting coincidence in a better situation.

"Girls?"

The female voice that called us downstairs was definitely not Ms. Pillsbury. At the stairs we saw the taller woman, black hair, holding a blondie baby in her lap. Shelby and Beth. They were the last people I expected to see in any circumstance. Shelby was living in the suburb of Dayton, which is an hour drive from Lima, still, it was a surprise to see her at our home.

"What..." – Santana was confused.

"Apparently my phone is on the list of your family emergency call. When the nurse said Hiram had an accident, I hit the road with Beth. I spoke with Juan a little, and he sent me with an express order to hold you two here."

"What moral do you have to hold us here?" Santana yelled and I put my hand on her shoulder to show her I was there to prevent more aggressive attitude. "You are a strange. Ms. P is more family than you!"

"It doesn't matter now what happened earlier in the year. I'm here to help your father and I will do it, please you or not. If you don't want to see my face, then go to your room and stay there." Shelby was the scariest HBIC I've ever seen. She turned to Ms. Pillsbury. "Emma, I can't thank you more for all the assistance and support. But the girls are in good hands now and if you don't mind."

"That's fine. I'm glad I could help the girls. Rachel..." She hugged me and kissed me on the top of my head. "I will be available for whatever you need." And she hugged Santana with equal affection before leaving. Then, she return suddenly. "Almost forgot..." she took our phones in her purse and put them on the dining table.

Beth was beautiful. The resemblance she had with Quinn was remarkable. She was in warm cute clothes and look at all directions, curious with the new environment. She soon became restless and Shelby put her on the carpet for a bit. Our mother seized the moment to break the awkward silence.

"I know you don't want to hear this now, but I missed you."

"Thanks Corcoran, but I rather go to the hospital to support my father."

"I'm with Santana!"

"Ok, let's clarify some things here. Firstly, don't call me 'Corcoran'. It's 'mother' or 'Shelby'." She ran a hand through her hair and continued. "You have to be a little rational here: Juan is currently focused all his energy and heart to save Hiram. Then you come to the hospital and he will stay concerned with both and Hiram and other patients. You won't help at all, quite the opposite. The best you can do right now is stay here, eat something and pray."

"But..." Santana tried to argue, but we saw Shelby with the extended finger and a repressor expression.

"Not only I'm the adult here, as also I am your mother and you will listen to me now."

"You're 17 years late." Santana snapped.

"Not now, Santy. Please." I spoke softly in her ear.

Santana sighed and resigned. Shelby relaxed a little when she felt my sister defeated on the brief game of nerves. I took the opportunity to hold her briefly. After all, I was grateful to have Shelby when I most needed. Santana chose to sit on the carpet to play with Beth, ignoring us.

"Are you hungry?" She asked me.

"No... I don't know what to do."

"Keeping your mind busy is good. Let Santana stay with her little sister. It will keep her busy and, apparently, the two got along. Meanwhile, you help me to fix something in the kitchen. I heard that you had to take medicine in your vein. It's sign you need to eat to stay firm to help your father, ok?"

Shelby was right and I hated her for it. I had to strengthen and help my dads. All I did was show where she could find cookware, cutlery and pantry. I couldn't stop thinking about Dad, but paying attention on her cooking in my kitchen (how surreal was this) helped to distract me, to feel less weak. Shelby was as oddly right person in a weird time. She cooked fast. The pasta was delicious, but we could barely eat. We had no stomach.

The house was crowded in the late afternoon. All my glee fellows and Mr. Shue were there, and so abuela, our cousins Julio and Daniele, aunt Maria and uncle Pedro. All this support… and I hated it. I hated seeing Finn or even my relatives. It was claustrophobic, so I ran for the safety of my bedroom. It was nice to be alone in my little world while the chaos was established downstairs. Not long after, Santana joined me bringing Beth in her lap.

"Shelby , Quinn and Puck are talking in the library." She lay down on my bed and put the baby between us. I started playing a bit with Beth. "Brittany kissed me in front of everyone, and god knows how much I needed it, but now aunt Maria is freaking out and Artie is making faces. Mike and Tina fetched our car at school as a favor. Finn tried to come upstairs to see you, but I didn't allow him. Then he said some stupid thing and left. I believe he called me selfish and heartless bitch. Are you sure he knows you are my sister?" I just grunted. I didn't want to see Finn or anybody else, but Santana and my papa. "Aunt Rosa called and she will be here by tomorrow morning. Julio is flirting with Mercedes." Our oldest cousin had a weakness for big girls. But Julio is 24 and Mercedes's 17.

"I didn't miss much then."

"Not at all! I couldn't take it anymore. Everybody was looking at me with pity." Santana turned to my side. "Are you holding okay?"

"I just wish papa come soon with news."

The room was quiet, silent. Beth was just doing adorable baby sounds. At least she made me smile.

"Santy..." I looked at my sister, who was dozing. She looked exhausted.

I returned my attention to my other sister, who drooled over my stuffed animals. She was lovely. It was when someone knocked on my door and then opened it slowly, hesitantly. It was Quinn.

"Hi." She was glued to the door, without taking her eyes off the baby. "I talked to your mother... and she... how are you?"

"It would be strange to say that I don't know?"

"No... this makes sense..." She continued to look at Beth.

"Do you want to hold your daughter?" I asked.

Quinn bit her lip, wiped her tears and then approached with caution. First, she sat on the edge of the bed and watched her daughter rolling aside and beating her little hand on Santana's face, who immediately mumbled the name of the small one. Even though the crisis, just watching the scene thrilled me in a positive way. Quinn leaned on the bed and stroked lightly Beth's legs then all the little body. She laughed and cried.

"Quinn." Santana muttered. "You can hold your daughter."

Quinn didn't comment, seemed to be in a trance as she continued to caress Beth, lost in her world. Then she got up.

"Baby steps." She muttered more to herself and then looked at us as if she had finally noticed our presence for the first time. "Shelby said she allow me to visit her from time to time... on special dates such as birthday or Christmas."

"Good for you, Quinn." Santana was sincere.

"You shouldn't make the same mistake Shelby and our dads did to us." I completed.

"I know." Once again she wiped the tears on her face and laughed when Beth rolled again onto Santana, who took the baby and raised her. Beth grinned and wiggled her little arms and legs. Santana put her carefully back to bed and then sat.

"Are you sure..."

"No. If I hold her now... I will run away with her..."

"I understand." Santana and Quinn exchanged knowing glances.

"I'm sorry for what happened to your father. I went to the hospital to donate blood and I'm praying for his recover."

"Thank you." Santana and I answered at the same time.

"I'll leave you resting." She walked toward the door. "If you need anything... I don't have much to offer, and I know that our relationship was never the best... with neither... but I want you to know that you can count on me. I really care of both of you. More than you know."

Quinn nodded and left my room.

"That was different!" I commented but Santana ignored me, lost in her own thoughts.

A few minutes later, Shelby entered my room and she was less hesitant and formal than our friend. She informed that most people were gone, leaving only abuela. Shelby would spend the night with us, but she needed going out to buy some things like toothbrush.

Santana and I went downstairs to stay with abuela. That old Chilean woman was so special that just being close to her, I calmed down.

"De cualquier manera, Dios sólo se reserva lo mejor. Confia en Dios, mi niña."

Santana and I were leaning against abuela, benefiting from the love of our grandmother. Santana ended up sleeping in her lap until my father arrived. He went straight to the library, where he sat in his favorite chair. We followed him, eager for any information.

"Hiram... lo siento tanto mi hijas." We started crying again. "I did everything I could and so as the team. I swear to God I did... But his brain is dead. He won't come back to us."

Hiram Joel Berry died young, at age 45, on December 12, 2011. He left two daughters and a husband.

I'm gonna miss my dad so much...


	12. S2 - Moving on

**MOVING ON**

**(Rachel)**

I don't like some clichés. As a connoisseur of plays and musicals, I watch carefully not only the actors' performance, but also the aesthetic details. And there are certain unnecessary things. Example: I don't understand the reason for all funeral be staged with half light and smoke from dry ice, or it's raining, as in "Watchmen". It's not poetic or sad. It's just cliché. The sadness is already part of the plot. Still, they insist do the same in the theater, television and movies. It's never sunny at a funeral even when it occurs in the summer. And if it's summer, then the funeral is indoor some place. Unless it's an action movie and the detective identifies the bad guy and need to chase him or there is an explosion in the cemetery. Cliché.

Ironically, my father's funeral had a cliché scenario. It happened in the late afternoon while it was snowing.

The men in my family led the simple coffin, without ornaments, as is the Jewish tradition. Dad was buried in a white outfit and his prayer shawl. We don't use flowers or sing at funerals. I was relieved to Noah have explained such detail to the Glee Club, but I'm almost certain they will do a special number as soon as Santana and I go back to school. George, the singer of our synagogue, recited the verse "the Lord gives and the Lord takes away - blessed the Lord's name", while he was throwing three shovels of dirt on the coffin.

Rabbi Amnon made a beautiful sermon. He and Dad were good friends. The sweet words made me cry for the first time at the funeral. I held papa's hand. He wanted to stay strong for me and Santana, but it wasn't necessary. I didn't care if the three of us were broken and needy. We would be on our right. Santana wore a kippah and held dad's in her hands. Shelby was by her side. The Lopezes were nearly all present, as well as Glee Club over Kurt, Blaine, coach Sylvester and Ms. Pillsbury. The Pierces were also there. Prudence and Clare with their husbands also pay homage to my father. There were students, colleagues and friends. Dad was a dear teacher. His friendly way could be greater than the prejudice that our family was the victim numerous times.

Zaide began to recite the Kaddish and at that moment Santana cried. My grandfather was devastated by the death of his only child and I can't imagine what was going through his mind. He recited the prayer with fervor while struggled to maintain his firm stance. Bubbee had a nervous breakdown and couldn't come to the funeral. She was medicated in my house. I think Zaide and bubbee would mourn with us, consisting of three days of confinement at home. Actually it was a week, but only three days were essential. But what else, other than my home, I would be in such occasion? All I wanted was to shut myself in my room and sleep and only wake up when this whole nightmare ends.

People greeted us before leaving: Finn, Kurt, Quinn… everybody. We had no receptions as was tradition among American Christians and I honestly didn't know what the point is: burying several days after death and still make reception. No. I prefer the Jewish way and the Latin Americans. When we got home, I went to the the guest room to see bubbee. She looked o calm in her induced sleep that papa medicated. Zaide passed by me and noted before got into the room and closed the door. Santana did the same. Papa was desolate in the library. I saw myself alone in that house with Shelby. My mother then did the best thing anyone could have done for me at a time like that: cuddled me until I felt sleep.

…

**(Santana)**

My body was aching. That was the bad of being a cheerio: when I stop exercising, my muscles complain. I stopped completely in my mourning days because I didn't feel like leaving my room. I looked over and stroked Brittany's hair. She slept with me on my birthday's eve. She wanted to give me a good night and a few orgasms as gift, and I thanked the company and the cuddle on, but refused the sex. Not so soon. I was still too hurt to enjoy a good fuck.

"Good morning!" She said before kissing me.

"Good morning!" I smiled. It was been a while since the last time I smiled.

"Happy birthday, San." One more kiss.

"Thank you."

"What will you doing today?"

"I'll stay home. I think papi is hosting a dinner for me and Rachel. Just for the family and you, of course."

"You don't seem excited."

"Daddy won't be in any other birthday celebration or any other important family event, Britt. That hurts a lot."

"But Uncle B would be upset to see you like this. He always enjoyed your laugh, San. And so do I. Maybe you should laugh a little in your birthday to make him happy."

"I'll laugh again, Britt. I just need more time."

Brittany stared at me with those insane blue eyes. She kissed one more time before got out of bed and give me a nice view of her perfect body. She pulled out a packet in the backpack.

"For you." She sat on my bed with her legs crossed.

I took the little package and unwrapped it. It was a pair of earrings with a small round gold pearl in the middle. Simple and elegant. I took off the one I was using and put the new ones. I kissed her in thanks.

"Thank you, Britt. They are perfect as you are."

"Anytime."

I got up from the bed and we took a shower together. Naked Brittany was a spectacular sight. How many times we had sex showers? How many times she gave me orgasms? But at that moment, we only showered together, behaved. When we left the room, I crossed with bubbee, which gave me a tight birthday's hug. I was happy that she was better.

"Feliz cumpleaños!" Papi essayed a smile to hug me. "Dios te bendiga y te hace feliz."

"Gracias, Papi. Where is Rachel?"

"En La biblioteca. Siento que Ella es nostálgica. Su presencia le hará bien."

"Veré qué puedo hacer."

I found my sister seeing the photo albums. She was sitting down at the table with her head resting on her arm. First I kissed her head and then took a good look at the photos.

"Our nine year birthday party?" I sat next to her. "We made pizza and bowling! That day was cool. Look at Britt and her crazy haircut."

"Because of you. You cut her hair when we were pretending to be hairdressers.

"Oh yeah. And she loved. This haircut latest a week before her mother cut it. That was the only time she had a short hair... Hey, look the clown!"

"You threw a bowling ball at his foot." And Rachel burst out laughing and I followed her. It was good to laugh after a few days. Dad had to pay the poor clown or the inconvenience.

"But what could I do? He called me freak."

"Unacceptable." Rachel joked.

"Right?" I looked to my sister. Rachel was still with swollen face, which was understandable. "Any plans for today?"

"None."

"Not even with Finn?" I tried.

"I haven't talked to Finn since the funeral. I don't want to answer the phone."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Well. All our friends, except Britt, are giving space for us, anyway."

"Yeah."

"Furthermore, we are going to spend the holidays in Cleveland..."

"I know."

"Are you going to Cleveland?" Brittany surprised us. "Oh, and Happy Birthday, Rach!" She hugged my sister.

"Yes. Didn't tell you?" Brittany shook her head. "We think Zaide and bubbee would like that."

"Oh! Well, I'll spend the holidays in other city too."

"Where to?" I was curious.

"Los Angeles. The newspaper offered my father a job. A good one. He said yes then I think we're moving. I'm not so sure... my parents are still talking about it."

The news fell like a bomb. If Uncle P goes to Los Angeles, that meant there was a good chance of Brittany be saying goodbye to Ohio. I wasn't sure what to think. California was full of opportunities for her. But what about me?

…

**(Rachel)**

I didn't celebrate my birthday as I planned before. Santana and I were thinking on a big party, but there was no spirit to do so. Not when Dad had been buried for less than a week. I received calls from Kurt, Finn, Mercedes, Lady Pillsbury, Mr. Schuester and surprisingly Quinn, but I didn't answer any of them. Santana's phone ringed so far more than mine. Every year was the same thing.

My family gathered around the dinner table. We rarely use it except on special days. Not many people attended, only Zaide and bubbee, Brittany, Shelby and Beth. We made a dinner because Daddy would want us to celebrate somehow. He wasn't the kind of man who liked people mourned for him. Instead, he always had a horror of that kind of thing. Zaide sat on a bedside table and my father in another. Papi was so depressed that we barely talked throughout the day. Bubbee prepared my favorites and my sister's: babaganouch with olive oil, quinoa and soy fritters, lamb, green salad with mushrooms and strawberries, and banana cream pie for dessert. The dishes were mismatched, but nobody cared.

We dispensed the gifts. The only ones we received were that Dad had already bought. He gave me a golden mic. Santana won a "big chemistry lab" as an inside joke of them, plus a jewel with a pendant in the shape David Star. She immediately replaced the necklace she wore with cheerio pendant.

"And now, my gifts for the girls." Zaide announced while we ate dessert.

"We had agreed not to give gifts this year." My father said angrily.

"I've just lost a son, and I think I deserve to have the satisfaction of giving something to my granddaughters."

Nobody argued after that. How could we? My father didn't like being defy by Zaide. I could even hear him muttering "stubborn Jew." An awkward atmosphere settled on the table and Zaide stood up and handed an envelope to me and Santana.

"Flights to New York?" I showed the contents of my ticket. "And tickets for Chicago?"

"They are scheduled for early January. I booked two rooms at Hilton. This travel will do well to our family."

"Thank you Zaide."

That was a perfect gift if the circumstances were different. I looked at Santana who was frowned at her the envelope.

"Zaide, I also have tickets to New York around the same time, but where's my ticket for the musical?"

"You will be my date for some businesses." Zaide ran the table and hit the shoulders of Santana. "You need to be well prepared, my granddaughter."

"Joel!" My father got up from the table even angrier. "Let's talk privately in the library."

I knew my destiny was in New York as a big Broadway star. All I did was prepare myself for this future. I knew how much I was fortunate to draw my own road and having a family that gave me everything that I reach my dream. I was much more fortunate than Santana. I understand the pressure she suffered to follow others dreams. Maybe that was the reason Santana loves gardening so much: Plants don't talk and just want water.

…

**(Rachel)**

Santana and I lost one week at school after the holidays break. Instead of going to the parties at Abuela's or at some of our friends, we opted for seclusion in Cleveland along bubbee and Zaide. That New Year day was the first in a sequence that we didn't spend at a party. Bubbee made supper, Santana, my father and Zaide sought to make peace in a pool game. At midnight, in the absence of someone to kiss, Santana gave me a peck. On the next day, we traveled to New York. Chicago, the musical, was splendid and Santana was so envy. Instead of having fun on Broadway, she went to a business dinner with Zaide and his friend, Caleb Weiz, then, she visit Stuyvesant High School. Zaide was playing dirty.

Back to school, just before the second period, I had a surprise when I opened my locker: there was a flower and a note: Finn asked to meet him in the choir room. For some odd reason, my heart didn't speed up. Although I wanted to talk to him to solve our problems, none of it seemed to me urgent anymore.

"Hi Rach!" He came to hug me briefly. "Happy birthday, merry christmas and happy new year. You didn't answer my calls…"

"Yeah, I know. I wasn't in the mood, but thank you."

"Are you feeling better?"

"I wish people would stop asking that." Even Sam asked me if I was ok. It was so annoying.

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault." I sat in the chairs in silence.

"I've been thinking about everything that happened, and the more I tried to focus on other things, the more you return to my thoughts. I miss you, Rachel. I know I'm not perfect, but you complete me, you support me and make me feel truly special. I really love you and I would like to go over all the problems we had on our relationship... Santana, Puck, everything. We should go over all these obstacles and give us one more chance."

Interestingly, I've figured Finn making a similar speech countless times since he broke up with me. But then I heard it for real and didn't sound right. The way the words were placed, seemed Noah and my sister were villains. So far from it. Noah was decent and Santana... all the anger I felt for she having sex with Finn had passed. It was dumb and childish to bring it up again. Noah and Santana were never the problems. And he ever knew about my summer affair. My relationship with Finn had many caveats, and stupid attitudes, empty proud. Despite all this, Finn was a good friend. Perhaps the first real one I've had in all these years. But he was never a good boyfriend.

"What about you just be my friend without any other interest behind?" I asked still thinking aloud.

"What do you mean?"

"Friendship. As Kurt is my friend. A friend without romantic interests."

"Kurt is gay. Therefore, he can be friends with a girl without being interested in her."

"So the answer is no!"

"I don't understand..."

I stared at Finn. I held one of his shoulders to make it lean. Then I kissed him slowly, gradually deepening the caress. As much as the feeling was good, the butterflies in my stomach were quieter. I needed to think better about it. What I wanted the most: the boyfriend or the friend?

"That means we are back?" Finn said with a silly grin on his face.

"I don't know." I walked away. "Santana was right about some things and I need to think better of them."

"Santana?" He frowned. "Why do you even listen to her?"

"She is my sister, Finn. Did you know that?"

"She could be your sister, Rachel, but doesn't mean that she cares about your feelings. All she does is criticize us and put us down."

"My sister is a bitch must of time, I agree, but she is honest with people. Anyway, Santana say what you need to hear, not what you want. And what I know is that much of glee clubbers care more about what I can offer for the team in competition. I know it hurts, but it's true. Maybe, right now, I want to have friends who like me as I am."

"She's wrong."

"Do you think? You, for example: Why do want be with me if I am not as pretty as Quinn or as sexy as Santana?"

"Because I love you. You make me feel complete..."

"I do love you too Finn. You are the man of my dreams. Maybe we are endgame. But right now you still want to be with me because of how I make you feel good, valued. What about the other side or stuffs?"

"Rach..."

"I care about you, about us. But we should take this slowly. Right now, please, be my friend. Then we'll see."

I turned my back and went to the Math class, the same when Santana and I were notified of the accident Daddy. A conversation with Finn delayed me, but the teacher overlooked. I had the impression that she would soften at me and my sister at least for first week. I apologized and sat in the chair next to Quinn, who kindly showed me some notes. I've lost some things during my absence week, but I could get everything in a short time. I thanked the gesture. In the middle of an explanation, the class eyes turned to Santana. With the subtlety of a hippo, my sister corrected an error on the board and called our teacher an amateur dumb. My sister got one more detention. It's like everything was coming back to the normal.

"I swear the teacher wanted to suspend Santana after she was corrected that way. I don't know why the Berry-Lopez sisters are the craziest." Quinn said humorously off the class, which surprised me. We walked side by side in the hallway once we had English class together.

"At least I don't confront my teachers." I said when we got to the lockers.

"You? Rachel Berry-Lopez?" She smiled. "Half the school is there to disagree." I was amazed with Quinn. I didn't know this sarcastic and humorous side of her. It was pleasant and charming. Quinn raised an eyebrow, a move that was typical of her, when she realized my astonishment. "What?"

"You, Quinn Fabray, is talking to me as a friend and worse: you are smiling?"

"So what?"

"It's not something that happens every day."

"You're a dwarf who steals our grandma clothes to go to school and you are annoying most of the time. But I like you. What I said that day in your room was sincere. I do care about you… and Santana"

"Thank you?"

"Behave Lopez 2. I still can find many ways to make your life miserable. But for now, I'm not in the mood."

"Again, thank you?" I smiles when we walked to the class.

"You bet, Lopez 2." She hit lightly on my back. "We have one more class to take and it will be much easier if you remain silent. So, please, don't pass half the class time discussing with the teacher."

"What's wrong with further discussion?"

"We parked in 'Ragtime' for ages. My essay on the book has even created mold! And I want to discuss Tennessee Williams."

I nodded and smiled. Life keeps going. Sometimes it gives us grounders, pressing our shoulders, take our illusions to place before the eyes of a harsh reality. Losing my daddy was an indescribable pain. But I had to move on.


	13. S2 - I'm gay

**I'M GAY**

**(Quinn)**

I opened my eyes without much ease. I awaked some time ago, but kept my eyes clenched in a foolish desire to pretend I was alone. I felt Sam's hand caressing my back. He knew I was awake and I had no more use in pretending. I turned to his side and saw him and his silly huge grin.

"Good morning."

"Morning." My voice was hoarse.

"How do you feel?"

"Sore." I said without thinking and provoked guilt in my boyfriend. "Oh, not just because of that." I hastened to explain. "I had a busy week with cheerios practice. The Regionals are coming and Sylvester is spitting fire."

It was true. The workouts had been so hard that I caught myself questioning if it was worth going through this to ensure the scholarship. It was so stressful to wake up at six in the morning to practice, then study, and in the meantime to manage a bunch of girls that would love to stab my back in a heartbeat. I made a mistake when I betray Santana to get her place early in the school year. I lose a strong ally and a friend. Kinda. What I know is that Santana didn't trust on me anymore and it would be wiser to remain as the second in command for a while. Santana was a natural leader, I got that, but she was temperamental and would end up making a mistake that would cost her leadership. But my Fabray side spoke louder and I had to kill it outright.

After that messy fight in school hallway, Santana made very clear that I had lost my ally. There was still a little help of Brittany, but only because she always had a strong team drive. Much more than Santana and I ever had. We always liked rival each other. But I knew it was about to break too. After Hiram Berry's death, Santana seemed to lose all desire to be on the cheerios, if she ever had any, and Brittany was determined to support her no matter what. I felt it would be a matter of time to Santana give up, so I really would be alone.

Despite the cheerios, I continued to make the usual nozzles to ensure some money for my personal expenses. My mother's pension is so little that we had the money to pay the basic bills and food, and what left over, we buy personal stuffs. Instead of clothes, my mother began to spend on drinks. She cleaned the home, sewed, cooked, and at the end of the day, she drunk a (large) glass of cheap wine.

The choir worked as a moment of leisure. Although the whole fight and the weekly mess, the activity was a breather. The choreographies were always light, the atmosphere was more relaxed. Sometimes I could sing my demons in musical metaphors and was gratifying to see my friends did the same. And Rachel had increasingly shaped both physically and vocally. I felt I could approach her more as we began to develop a good friendship. A pity that Hiram had to die to I try being part of Rachel's life in a positive way, without caring about what my family or the popular kids were thinking.

If that was all I could have of Rachel Berry-Lopez, I take it. I could be Quinn Fabray, captain of the cheerios, bitch, popular, honor roll student, choir member and friend of the loser diva.

"How are you?" I returned the question to my boyfriend.

"Amazing." He looked like a blown boy. Well, Sam got in my pants.

"That good?"

"It was the best night I have ever had." He blushed. "It was the first time I spent all night with a girl... not that I hadn't many girlfriends before... I actually had one and I think I'm talking too much."

"Not so much. A girl?"

"I lost my virginity to this girlfriend I had before I moved to Ohio. But we were always in a hurry."

"Interesting." It wasn't.

I looked down at Sam and kissed him. I decided to have sex with him because he showed signs that he was losing interest. I wasn't a virgin and so he, a baby went through my vagina, and had no family reputation to uphold. My apologies for keeping my legs closed were getting worse and I had to kept that relationship to ensure my popularity. Sincerely, Sam was the best option of all the bad ones I had at McKinley High. Or we would go all the way or break up.

I decided to make a special date. We dined in Breadstixs, we danced in one of the few pubs that don't expel under 18 for presenting poor quality fake I.D, and then I invited him to come to my house. I bought condoms at the pharmacy and did what I thought I had to do. I tried to enjoy the moment, different from what happened in my first time with Puck, but it wasn't what I expected. Sam would be sad if knew my real opinion about our night.

I kissed him again. First on the forehead and then the mouth.

"I love you!" He shot.

He said the L work too soon. But, again, he was the guy who offered me a ring after a week dating. Too bad I didn't feel the same, but remain in silent would hurt him bad. Sam was a decent guy to have the spell broken at our first time, especially after four months of dating. Then I lied.

"I love you too!"

"I want to stay here forever!" Sam grinned.

"But we have to go to church!" I closed my eyes when I realized how hash it sounded. "You know." I change the tone. "As much as we want to be here, we have our obligations to the church and the community."

"Of course." He looked at me in a funny way. "Quinn, I know it's lame to ask this, but... how I was?"

"You were great and I am fully satisfied."

It was a lie and I pretended orgasm. Yes, I knew what is like to have one. My fingers and Lady Barbra gave me some. The male body doesn't attract me. Sam had a perfect body, but it was too hard, too heavy. There is no connection. Moreover, he didn't last longer. Not in ridiculous Finn Hudson way, but the two rounds we had, he came well before I had any chance.

"Where are you going?" He asked when I got up from bed and put on my hobby.

"Bath." I replied drought.

"Can I?" I leaned back on the bed to kiss him and forced a smile.

"There are things I'd rather do it myself."

I had my bath. A long one. The water on my back was relaxing and it energized me. The steam from the hot water fogged mirror. I cleaned it up and stared at my still blurry reflected image.

"I think I'm gay!"

…

**(Santana)**

"This town is so dull."

"I don't think so. It's better than Lima." Rachel pondered.

"Two things that I still don't understand. A: why Shelby decided to stay in Ohio. B: Why are we here?"

"Do you want an honest answer?" Rachel snapped and I decided it was for the best to keep quiet.

Once adopted Beth, Shelby had considered returning to New York, but decided the city wouldn't be the healthiest environment for a single mother raising a baby. Then, she accepted a job offer in a Middle School at Dayton. She financed a house that was only five minutes from work.

Shelby went more into our lives after Dad died. Papi received her well, I loved Beth, and Rachel wanted her mother in her life. There was no drama about it. For my part, while she kept reasonable distance it would be okay. I didn't want to connect emotionally with anyone else. It was too painful to know that the people I loved the most were abandoning me. Dad is gone for good. I'll never see again his smile, gardening, playing the piano or arguing with Rachel about music and divas.

Brittany was going to leave Lima. Uncle P took the job in the Los Angeles Times as art editor. He was already on the west coast arranging everything and the rest of the family was moving definitively in the summer. It was the damn Los Angeles, full of opportunities. Brittany has a chance to join the best dance companies. It was her destiny. What about me? I was inclined to accept Zaide's offer. Maybe I should do Stuyvesant's admission test, and live one year in New York to prepare for Harvard. I talked with zaide's friend, Mr. Caleb Weiz, and he assured me that I could have an internship at his company and any assistance I needed. If I wanted, I could even stay at his mansion in Kings Point. It was a large place for an old millionaire, widower and lonely, despite his younger girlfriends. His two sons died young and Weiz didn't have a heir to enjoy his fortune. Poor bastard.

Papi hated the idea. He blamed me for letting myself be influenced by Zaide. On the other hand, there was a cogent question: Stuyvesant was one of the best schools in the country and it opens some doors to great universities. Since Brittany wouldn't be here, what was the point of staying at William McKinley High?

"Turn left." Rachel looked the GPS.

"This one?"

"Yes!"

Rachel was a bad navigator. She warned at the last moment.

"This is the street."

It was a middle class neighborhood with equal houses, cut lawns, collective backyards.

"I think it's that green house."

"Are you sure?" I drove slowly down the street.

"It matched with the description." I pulled over the car in front of the house. I took a deep breath to create the courage. I was doing my first official visit to my birth mother.

We barely got out and saw the front door open.

"Girls!" Shelby was with Beth in her lap.

"Hello Shelby." I said.

"Hi mom." Rachel said.

I clapped my hands in front of Beth to see if she would come on my lap. She should be coy, or grumpy, because she turned her face. I was rejected, but in a whole cute way. Shelby, of course, laughed. I insisted more. It didn't work. I took her anyway and threw her into the air. Beth started laughing. I was so good in won princesses. Rachel waited to embrace Shelby before get in the house.

The residence was functional. The living room has a TV and a comfortable sofa. Beth toy's was scattered. The bathroom was nicely decorated, Shelby's room was simple and elegant. Beth's one had light yellow decor. There was a smaller room that Shelby called the mess room. Everything was in place and clean. It was surprising to know that a sophisticated woman like Shelby could also be a homebody.

"The entrance to the basement is outside, next to the garage. But it isn't worth showing. It's just the washer and the dryer place." She explained.

"It's a nice house." Rachel praised.

"The neighborhood is good?" I questioned. "I mean, looks like a red neck neighborhood. These people have a problem with you being a single parent?"

"You shouldn't judge without knowing, Santana. And I have nothing to hide. Or would I?"

"I don't know your life, Shelby."

"Santana!" Rachel warned. "We didn't come here to fight."

"You're right. I came here to play with Beth" I still provoked.

"Enjoy and play around with your little sister while Rachel helps me with lunch. I hope you like bolognese sauce."

"I do. But Rachel..."

"The pasta is vegan. That's why I made the sauce apart."

Rachel smiled gratefully for the consideration. I couldn't deny that Shelby can cook. She was struggling to keep a nice chat and a good relationship that was able to erase our disastrous first dates. During our meal, Rachel told stories about our childhood. I kept silent and only spoke when I thought I needed to defend myself.

"I am curious about the time you spent in New York." Rachel said when we were helping to clean the dishes.

"Those were the most insane years I have ever had." Shelby said with nostalgic air.

"And Broadway?"

"What can I say, Rachel? I've worked on a lot of small productions."

"You made some porn?" I taunted and Rachel wanted to kill me with her glance. "Like Cameron Diaz and Jackie Chan?"

"I took erotic photos once, maybe twice." She didn't seem embarrassed and gained my respect.

"That's disgusting!" Rachel bad reacted.

"I'm not proud of it. Moreover, when you are 24 and desperate for a job because your rent is two months late and you desperate for a burger, you do whatever you need to do to survive. I never prostitute myself or worked as striper or was on a porn movie, but did things by necessity."

"How could you do that?" Rachel was indignant. "Didn't you have the money my dads gave to you?"

"I made bad investments."

"And what else?" I wanted to continue.

"I did plays, local TV advertisements, small characters on indie movies. And I also was waitress and a production assistant, I distributed flyers, worked in a clothing store, sang in pubs, I majored in Theatre at Lehman College and applied for Tirch's Special Programs for Adult Learners. I lived intensely in New York."

"Did you fall in love in New York?" Shelby blushed and grinned embarrassed by Rachel's question. Then she asked us to follow her.

"I lost a lot of things in the various moving houses." She pulled out a cardboard box on the mess room. "But I would never forgive myself if I stayed without certain stuffs. This box saves much of my emotional New York City memories."

She allowed us to take away the objects of the box. It had ticket stubs, posters of the plays she worked, trinkets, a miniature of a yellow cab, many photos of a younger Shelby.

"Who is this man?" I pointed to a dark, very handsome man who appeared with some frequency in the photos.

"Peter Lawson, ex-boyfriend. He was a musician and used to play in the pubs of the Village."

"He made it?" I asked.

"No. He got a formal job and then married another woman."

"Why didn't work with you guys?" Rachel asked.

"Sometimes you're so in love and blind that you think that you're living the most true and sincere love, until life tells you otherwise." She searched the box and pulled out a tape K7. "This here would be our hit record." She put the tape on the stereo.

The arrangements weren't good, the guitar was flat and soon I understood why Peter Lawson didn't succeed. The letters were kinda nice and Shelby's vocals were gold. What I didn't understand was how she couldn't succeed on Broadway? She has what was needed: voice, beauty, posture.

"Not bad!" I commented.

"A critic would hate this, but this is one of the most important records in history because here are my feelings, my own words. If you want to know how my life was in New York, it may be simpler hear this demo."

"Can I have it?" Rachel asked excited.

"I will make you a copy and send you later. This is ok?" Rachel nodded positive.

We left in the early evening. The visit was surprisingly pleasant. It was not yet possible to say that Shelby did or not part of the family as I understood. It was a first step.

…

**(Quinn)**

I had some recurring customers since I started working. The Dimeries usually needed me on Fridays to take care of little Pamela (3). Friday was their date day, so the couple goes out to dinner or attended adult social engagements. I think they go to swing parties. I arrived at seven in the evening and found the little girl already bathed. All I needed to do was give her milk, make her brush teeth, play a little, let her watch some cartoons, maybe tell a story and put her to sleep before ten o'clock. The couple arrived between midnight and one o'clock. Until then, I read a book or watch television. Sometimes I am dozing on the couch.

I taught math and grammar to Bart Smith (10) twice a week. I was a cheaper solution for the parents and the boy liked me. My schedule also had space to teach any subject to Emma (11) on Mondays. That would depend on the difficulty of the week. Emma was very smarty and was more interested in asking questions related to hormones and their effects, for example, why she started liking a boy she used to hate.

There were occasional customers, as Kevin Brody (13) whose parents just called me to give reinforcement when he failed in some test. And I had Owen James (4), whose I babysitting when his mother really needed.

The deal with all the children's parents were professional. I do my services, I am paid for them and leave. No emotional involvement. Except, maybe, Nina James. She was the young single mother who became pregnant by accident at 21 by a useless, as she set the kid's father. I went to her house usually in the afternoon of the midweek. Nina offered me a coffee and sometimes even invited me to dinner.

Nina was an attractive woman and was hard to take my eyes off of her boobs. She had a formidable pair, shaped, valued by the blouse and tops she wore.

"We're moving." She said when offered me coffee and a piece of cake before I say goodbye. "I got a better job in Toledo, and I must leave Lima by the end of next week."

"Congratulations." I smiled politely. I took another sip of my coffee and inadvertently lowered my eyes again to her boobs. Nina noticed and put her hand covering the tiny valley between them. I looked away, to the refrigerator, as if the pictures I've already known become interesting. "Too bad I will lose a nice customer... I will miss Owen... and you."

"I still need help to pack my things. Do you want to earn a little extra money to help me pack and clean the house?" She slowly took the hand of her boobs, sliding the fingertips on one breast, as if she was trying to seduce me. Was that how Puck had sex with some housewives?

"Sure. When?"

"On Sunday?"

"I will be here."

In three days I would be back to the James almost ex-house. I worked hard to earn my dollars packing stuffs and helping to clean up the little house so she could give back the keys to the owners. Almost everything was prepared to put in the truck and go.

"Would you like a beer?" She asked.

"No thanks."

"Don't you like or have another reason?"

"Beer is not my favorite drink."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Juice?"

She served me a juice and sat beside me on the floor. And we talked more. It was interesting to talk about certain things to an older woman who isn't my mother or Ms. Pillsbury. Nina was an engineer, single mother, lives alone since she was 18.

"You will see. College is a time of definitions. No wonder that many girls experiences. And some continue to experience for a longer time."

"Have you ever dated women?"

"I'd dated one for three months and I had one night stands with some. But, overall, I dated guys."

"How... how was to be with a girl?"

"Different. The touch is different" She drank the beer. "It's easier to be with men. It's more practical. But sex with girls can be a piece of art."

"Really?"

"Have you ever kissed a girl, Quinn?" I waved negative. "Do you like any girl?"

"There are two girls at school. They are best friends with benefits and seem to be very happy. I wouldn't try to be with them, but there is another girl... the one who I can only imagine."

"Platonic love? That's romantic."

"But not very practical. I have a boyfriend and she is in love with a guy."

"Do you like your boyfriend?"

"He's nice." Nina looked at my very skeptical so I elaborate better. "This girl I like is the only one. I know I can't have her but I also know how terrible is to be alone in high school. Sam is a nice guy, but I don't feel connected…"

"Feel free to not answer, Quinn, but are you feel attraction for other girls? Like physical attraction?"

"Yeah…"

I answered without really thinking. But that was true. I am attracted to the female body, I only watch lesbian porn and I enjoyed looking that Puck's Hustles. But I wouldn't tell it to anybody else in school or, especially, at home. Talking so easily about my sexuality to Nina was unexpected and it didn't make feel self-conscious.

"Have you ever tried other girl?"

"I have this curiosity, but I've never…"

"Would you like to know how is to be with a girl?"

I didn't answer, but it didn't matter when I felt Nina's lips on mine. The touch was amazing. We kissed there on the living room floor between cardboard boxes for a few minutes until Owen appear. Nina put him for a nap. And when the boy fell asleep, my lesson continued in her bedroom.

Not only I touched that desirable bust, but also tasted it. And it was amazing to have those firm nipples in my mouth. Nina taught me how to touch her body, and also showed how light my fire. She was an amazing teacher. When she got down on me, I almost exploded. It didn't take much to have an orgasm. The first I've had with someone else. I explored her with my fingers and let myself be exploited. I had no qualms about going down. I longed for it and imagine how it would be in that same position with Rachel Berry-Lopez.

We knew it was just a moment, that as soon as I left her house, that relation would be over. I was happy with it. And grateful.

I used the bathroom before leaving. I took a quick shower and then found myself in the mirror. There are some defining moments in life. That was one of them. At that mirror in that the Nina James almost ex-house, I saw my sharper image and not felt guilty. I understood everything. I finally understand the genuine connection of my body with another female one. The taste, the curves, the touch, the breasts, the smell: it all made sense.

"I'm gay."

I finally said it to myself.


	14. S2 - Get It Right

**GET IT RIGHT**

**(Rachel)**

The visiting to my mother was truly inspirational. I spent the weekend thinking about various performances we could do for Regionals. We lost last year, but we don't have to worry about Vocal Adrenaline this year because they are the current champion and Carmel's team was already classificated to the Nationals. I knew that Mr. Schuester was more willing to get my ideas, so expect him to take into consideration that could be all the difference in this step: one that could lead us to Nationals. During our meeting in the choir room, I asked to speak in front of the team and suggested an original song.

I didn't understand why the reaction was so adverse, as if my Glee fellows didn't have the ability to understand the strategy of placing ourselves as complete artists before the jury. We could dance, sing and express our feelings in our own words, but the others didn't understand this way. And for those who weren't against, like my sister, Tina and Artie, they simply abstracted from any voice and accountability. That says a lot about their personality or lack of some.

I felt my legs heavy after my demise and I was dragging myself through the halls.

"Rachel!" I heard a voice behind me. It was Quinn.

"What?" I didn't know why, but hoped she would throw a slushie in the face. It would even be refreshing.

"What happened?" She asked with a worried way. This confused me, because everyone knew why I was so disappointed. That's when I remembered that Quinn was absent.

"Sam didn't tell you?" She waved negative. "I suggested doing an original song for Regionals. Say something in our own words and feelings. I think it is stronger than do the usual karaoke cover arranged for several voices. Unfortunately nobody supported me. They thought the idea was stupid."

"But this is a great idea." I opened my eyes. Quinn was agreeing with me? The world would end? "I believe we can do a better letter than many radio successes there. Something much better than... I dunno... '_I, I love you like a love song baby / and I keep hitting re-pe-pe-peat._" Quinn did a funny imitation of Selena Gomez.

"Or even this: '_So i put my hands up / they're playing my song / and the butterflies fly away / noddin my head like yeah / movin my hips like yeah_." I did an out of tune imitation of Miley Cyrus.

"And that is unsurpassed: _'It's Friday, Friday / Gotta get down on Friday / Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend / Friday, Friday / gettin down on Friday / Everybody's lookin 'forward to the weekend_'" We laughed loud.

I had never paid attention before, but Quinn had a great laugh. Then there was an awkward moment. She stared into my eyes and I felt captured. She had beautiful hazel eyes, but they never stared at me with that intensity. It was always with a certain hatred and rancor. This time I could tell there was something different, but I couldn't say what.

"Well..." She broke the spell and I felt embarrassed not knowing exactly why. "We can meet after the classes tomorrow to work on an original song. What do you think?"

"Deal. We can start discussing some ideas at lunch. I'm sure we can use this time at home to think of something brilliant and appropriate."

"Perfect!" Quinn grinned.

Sam and Finn walked together on our direction. Sam grabbed Quinn's hands and they said goodbye to me and Finn.

"See you tomorrow!" I said louder. Quinn looked back and waved.

"Do you have plans with Quinn tomorrow?" Finn was curious.

"A project that we going to work together."

"Oh! Cool. You want a ride to home?"

"No, I'm driving my sister home today. It's my turn. But thanks. It's very kind of you."

"You're welcome." He put the usual half-smile on his face. "You know, Rachel, I didn't speak out there in the choir room, but I wanted to say that I find interesting the idea of an original song. And if there is someone able to show that Santana and others are wrong, it's you." What was the reason for him not having spoken up then? Was he ashamed to defend me even though the majority opinion? That's how he wanted us to dating again?

"Thank you, Finn. Your support means a lot to me, but it would be much better if you had done it in public."

"Rachel I don't..."

"Rachel" Santana yelled down the hall and her time was perfect. "Hurry up! I don't have all day."

"I have to go... my sister..."

"Yeah, I know how Santana is." he said mildly irritated. "See you tomorrow?"

"You're coming to school, right?"

…

**(Quinn)**

When Rachel said about the original song project, I found it amazing. What I didn't expect was her strange ideas. She wrote a song about the saga of her birth. The horror! Rachel didn't understand the proper meaning of the original song, so I introduced a line from a poem I made.

"_What have I done / Wish I Could Run / Away from this ship going under / Just trying to help / Hurt everyone else / Now I feel the weight of the world is on my shoulders._"

I didn't explain the circumstances that led me to write such things. It was something I scribbled in my notebook during the holidays as I absorbed the fact that I gave my daughter for adoption, my Beth. Rachel respected my silence, and said she liked that. It would be the beginning of a song full of drama, passion and other strong feelings.

On Friday, we started to work hard in the following verses. We wrote and rewrote several phrases within a primary pace until we came to something like this:

"_All the things you can do When You are good enough/ but all that I touch tumbles down/ cause my best intentions/ keep making a mess of things/ I Just wanna fix it somehow/ but how many times will it take/ for me to get it right._"

We were working on the rest of the song when Mercedes invaded the auditorium with Artie. These two were talking on the phone and then burst the pump: Santana left the cheerios and was promoting a commemorative party with the choir members at her house. Rachel panicked. She explained that the Dr. Juan Lopez went to a Congress and trust their kids to behave. I panicked because without Santana or Brittany, our presentation in the Regional with cheerios would be compromised.

I was angry and went to take satisfactions. As soon I met her, the pushing started: how could she do that to the team? Santana pushed me back, again and again until I hit the floor. Then she said with an eerie calm:

"I have to study for the admission test to Stuyvesant and I had to give up an extra activity to gain time. Among the cheerios and coral, I get the New Directions."

That's when I knew that Brittany was moving to Los Angeles. Santana really had no reason to stay in Lima if she had a safe escape route. I was jealous of her. I wish I had a chance, no matter how small, to get out of Lima and leave behind all this hell. So, the best thing I could do was getting drunk with her at the party.

…

"Q." The coach shouted me. It was six-thirty in the morning, it was freezing at the bones. Too cold and early to listen orders and problems, but I was the captain.

"Alisha." I shouted at one of the major cheerios now that Santana and Brittany were gone. "Take the girls."

I followed the coach's heavy steps to the office. I was in no mood to hear anything after an atypical weekend when we spent in that alcoholic party at the Berry-Lopez's house. The one that I slept on a sofa, went cold, and I woke up with a sore body and a house full of people having the mother of the headaches.

"Sit, Q" I hated that voice tone of calm and full of venom, but I obeyed. "Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce betrayed the team."

"Yes ma'am, I know."

"I thought so, since you are frenemies. Santana gave up her uniform and said she would take a test to another school."

"It's a fair reason, coach."

"Turns out that the girl with indefinite ethnicity remained in the choir despite her fair reasons. Worse, she made our main dancer do the same."

"You want me to convince Brittany to come back?"

"No, Q. Their case made me establish new rules for the cheerios team. Those involved in other school clubs, mainly in the choir, will no longer be accepted."

"Coach, do you want me to leave the choir?"

"The example starts with the captain."

"But I can't!" I got up. "I set appointments. Furthermore, I am aware that I can juggle all the activities I disposal to do. I am captain of the cheerios, but I also belong to the choir and it still work. It is not fair to ask me to leave the activity that I consider to be a pleasure."

"Very touching, but my decision is irrevocable and I have no exceptions. If you want to stay with us and guarantee your scholarship next year, give up the choir."

"I need to think about it. Give-me some time, please."

"You have until the end of the day. Now get out of here."

My head went into a tailspin. My choice was obvious because I needed that scholarship to get out of Ohio. But I was so in pain to leave the choir just when I was in reasonable peace with the group, including Rachel. We were doing a song together, Christ. I ran to the locker room of cheerios to think and give some pounding on the lockers. Instead, I kept quiet and hidden in a secluded corner to cry alone. A few minutes later, I saw that someone get in. I checked my watch and the training hadn't finished. I heard known voices and laughter. Brittany and Santana. I didn't want to talk to them, much less they noticed me.

"You know." Brittany began. "I think Blaine will date Rach. The two worked so well at the party. "

"Britt, Blaine is gay!"

"No he's not. I would have felt it. "

"Your gaydar sucks, Britt!" Santana laughed loose.

"But I swore that Blaine was all in love with Rachel..." I also thought that when I saw that two kissing. I hate Blaine Anderson, and I hate he clued his lips on hers.

"How could you not feel that Blaine is gay? Even drunk, I notice it. Kurt is the one who wants to get in his pants."

"But my gaydar is pretty good. Was I the one who find out that Alisha is gay."

"No... you found out because we saw that stupid trying to kiss Demi at that party."

"See? My gaydar is perfect. You could do a test."

"Hmm... let's see..." Santana looked like she was having fun with the game. "Mercedes?"

"That's easy. She likes men despite never having a boyfriend!"

"She dated once... or almost..."

"How so?"

"She made out with my cousin Julio. I know he's all delighted about Mercedes, but the two can't legally date. Yet."

"Wow!" Brittany cheered. "Shoot another!"

"Fabray?" My ears pricked.

"Quinn is gay or, at least, bi-curious!" My heart soared with the response of Brittany. She couldn't know. I've never given signs in school and always behaved myself as the heterosexual queen. I got pregnant and I was with three popular kids. How could she realize I am gay?

"No way! She is, at most, a repressed."

"Yes, a repressed gay who likes to check out all the cheerios."

"Yeah... I've seen her checking out my boobs sometimes... But I've never felt anything different about her, unless the particular peeve with my sister. First, I thought it was because of Finn. Then I thought it could not just be that. But the way she is with Sam, hanging on his neck, I think she is really heterosexual."

"There's something that tells me she is gay. I can't explain." Thinking coldly, I could not be impressed with Brittany's good perception. Sometimes she understood things much better than the rest of the group.

"Ok. And Rachel?" Santana continued the little game.

"That's easy. She likes men, more specifically Finn Hudson."

"Right and wrong!" My heart raced for the second time.

"How so?" That was the question I was mentally doing with Brittany.

"Rachel was with a girl in London last summer, and it wasn't anyone ordinary: She made out with a beautiful young woman who had a tattoo and everything else."

"Come on, San. You're lying. Rachel would never cheat on Finn that way."

"I'm not lying! I don't remember her name... looks like Lauren... Laura... Well, we went to Reading Festival with some friends and this girl. They got close and on the second day of the festival, what I see? Rachel and the girl in question trying to tie a knot with their tongues. They were together until the day before we get back to the United States."

My blood boiled and I couldn't think straight. All this time containing myself, thinking that Rachel was unable to be with another girl. Why not me? Why Rachel had to get involved with a girl before? Santana and Brittany left out the lockers room and so did I of my hiding place. I screamed.

Rachel had no problem staying with girls but could never be me. Our history was lousy: the slushies, the swearing, the shouting matches, threats. And the love, in our case, was unilateral and secret. Who could ask for rationality to someone in the midst of a crisis of jealousy? I wanted to take it out on someone. I walked into the rehearsal room and saw Rachel sitting at the piano with the letter that we were composing.

"Quinn!" The girl in question said cheerfully and gaily. "I made some adjustments in the first verse and I think this song deserves one more verse to merge with the chorus..." She stopped when she saw me gasping. "What happened? Do you fight with Sam?"

"Why to be angry I would necessarily have fought with some boy? Oh yeah! I'm a Barbie. I only make sense if I have a Ken!"

"Quinn?"

"You know Rachel? You aren't the center of the universe. You stay here giving blood for a ridiculous song thinking it can bring Finn back into your arms. But do you know the truth? You'll never get him back!"

"You still want him? Quinn, be sincere."

"And if I do?" I lost my cool and screamed.

"You'll have a good fight ahead." Rachel got up from the piano and approached me, looked determined, but she still showed fear.

"Why? Why bother to fight if in the end you will leave this town? Will you live your dreams on Broadway while I'm staying here to be, maybe, a public school teacher, perhaps married to Finn with five or six kids?"

"It won't be like that!"

"No? Then you will stay in Lima with the love of your life?" My hysterical laughter mingled with my tears. "Wake up, Rachel!"

"Finn and I are destined to be together!"

"Finn in New York? A no-talent idiot in the big city? You'll never make it right! You can't have everything you want."

Rachel collected her things.

"I'll finish the song alone." Her voice was hard and she left the room. I was still in there trying to catch my breath. What had I done? How stupid not having uncontrolled myself.

Then I went to Sylvester's office and quit the Glee.

…

"I know you chose the cheerios, but I hope you came to the choir as my guest." Rachel walked on me in the lockers.

"Why should I go?"

"Because you deserve listen our song." And she turned her back.

It seems that I was numbed. I had to digest the revelation about Rachel, my stupidities and cowardice. I was a closed lesbian too afraid to come out to the closet. I was in love and terribly afraid to fight for her. But I accept her invite mostly because I was curious to listen the song. At the choir room, I sat next to my boyfriend and wait. Then, Rachel stood up.

"I know you refused my suggestion of doing an original song, that my idea was ridiculous as my dear sister said as I record well." I look at Santana, who noted to Rachel. "Still I did a song with Quinn Fabray, one that says a lot about what I'm feeling right now. If you don't want an original song, at least you could do a favor to hear this. Santana." Everybody was surprised when Rachel sits to play the piano while her sister got up and stood beside her.

She wasn't a good pianist, but she knew how to find the notes. The arrangement was very rudimentary and I could do something better because I more skilled at the piano than her. Anyway, Rachel began to sing beautifully with Santana doing the second voice. My heart was pounding.

I have also noticed that she made some changes. Instead of "All the things you can do When You are good enough", she changed to "_What can you do When your good is not good enough_." Then, she added the verse: "_So I throw up my fists , throw a punch in the air / And accept the truth That sometimes life is not fair / Yeah I'll Send Out a wish , yeah I'll send up a prayer / then finally , someone will see , how much I care_."

I tried so hard to hide the tears. At the end of the performance, I saw that Finn seemed moved by the words. Idiot. I can't speak for Rachel, but the verses were for me and it wasn't a love song. I saw how Rachel looked at the jerk. How could I let him win so easily? Then it come a realization: my time was running out, my chances too. I decided I would fight. I needed to face that friendship with Rachel would never be enough. Or tried to fight for my own happiness or would be frustrated for life. What I have to lose?

While the rest of the choir warmed to the idea of presenting an original song, I left the room and went straight to the office of Sue Sylvester.

"Q?" The coach said without even looking up from his notebook. "If you come to discuss the Regional Plan, I won't give up the cannon idea."

"No, coach. I'm here to quit."

"What?" Sylvester finally lifted her head and stared at me in amazement. She didn't expect this response, for sure. "Do you really aware of everything that you will lose, Fabray? Your scholarship, your chance to get out?"

"Yes I do. But I choose the Glee Club. I'll Return the uniform tomorrow morning."

I turned my back and out of the office. I heard the sound of something heavy being fouled inside the room. Glee's Regional happen in nine days and there was much work to be done: a new song, rehearsals, choreography, arrangements with the band. Even more... I had a heart to win.


	15. S2 - Stolen Kiss

**STOLEN KISS **

**(Rachel) **

"Santy, your dresses are too short and pasted in the body!" I took a good look in her wardrobe at five-twenty in the morning.

"Just now you noticed?" She put her bag on the bedroom door.

"You need a more suitable outfit to watch a musical on Broadway."

"First, I'm not going to New York to watch musicals. Second, I won't go to a fucking musical. Third, If I have the opportunity to go out, I would rather visit a pub. Forth, even if I wanted to go to the theater, I think my dresses, my boots and my pants are perfectly adequate."

"I still think..."

"Ray, I'm going to New York to do a fucking test, ok?"

I looked seriously at my sister. Santana had prepared a bigger bag than mine. I sorted the clothes that we would wear in the competition and two seedlings, besides the pajamas. It was more than enough for a weekend. Santana, in addition to the things of the competition, prepared a suitcase to spend three days in New York. In one of them, she would at Stuyvesant High School auditioning for admission along with dozens of other candidates. If she gets it, and my intuition said she will, my sister will move to New York in the summer. It was so weird to think about.

"What are the real chances of you get it?" I sat on the bed as watched Santana get a small handbag.

"Remote!" She muttered. "Do you really want to discuss about this at five in the morning?"

"How remote it could be? You are a genius!"

"I can be for the Lima standards, but the education I receive at McKinley is lower than what is seen in Stuyvesant. I heard that students there learn college-level calculus. How can I compete with that?"

"Even if you doing special class?"

Santana grumbled. She didn't like being reminded that she attending three times a week the super-nerds class of McKinley, as she used to say. One day, she said that she spends most of the time in silence and doing exercises and that's better than interact with "peers". On the other hand, I think she would appreciate to be tested academically. Santana had little patience with the trivial and the math teacher was her master target of bulling.

"Do you think we'll go through the Regional this time?" I changed the subject.

"Our number to the technical round is very good, even if controversial. I honestly think it is our strongest. If we make it, the original songs will impact, mostly because the jury won't have other references to compare our performance with."

"What worries me most is that the only team that we know is the Warblers. At least they are predictable. Blaine would sing something by Pink or Katy Perry or any other pop music that appears in the Billboard Top 10."

"Truth." Santana giggled. "On the other hand, they are superior in set and they probably will win the technical round. But we have the best soloists and we know how to entertain, which is better for the artistic round, the one that matter." I started giggling, which confused Santana. "What?"

"I've never imagined us discussing technical points of Glee even in my wildest dreams!"

"You should throw water on your face." She finished her packing.

"Brittany is going with us?"

"No. It will be just you and me this time."

"Why can't we invite Finn?"

"I hate just being in the same room with that stupid, and then I won't be with him in my car. My stomach wraps to know that you are still like him."

"I have no interest in anyone else."

"It's because you haven't opened your eyes to anyone else. At the moment you do, you will see how much that asshole is just an ordinary talentless guy who loves to be the leader. Then you will realize how much you deserve somebody better."

I picked up Santana's suitcase and left dragging it down the stairs. Santana's disdain for Finn irritated me. They had a past and didn't like each other, I got it. But I expected a superiority act in exchange for peace, after all, Finn and I were getting along again and for officially dating again was a matter of semantics. And Santana was wrong: I haven't closed my eyes to other people: I had Jesse and Puck, I kissed Blaine and had an experience with Laura. But Finn was always the one who filled my feelings and desires. There was nobody else.

Santana and I said goodbye to your father and got in the car. Regionals were in Cleveland this time. The plan was first to arrive at our grandparents' and then go to the theater. Because of the larger number teams, the competition would take place in two days. In the first, 12 would perform and seven would be eliminated. The top five would return the next day when only one would be classified for Nationals. Our team would spend the night in a hostel, but it would be silly face a shared room if we had something more comfortable. That's why we ask our grandparents to allow the girls stay in the guest house and save some money. They agreed.

We left Lima at six in the morning. Santana drove over the hour and a half on the road and we arrived in Cleveland in time to have breakfast with our grandparents. Zaide was excited about the trip to New York. He was convinced that Santana would be approved and, thus, be prepared to proceed to the family business. Bubbee, on the other hand, seemed more interested in the competition. Arts had always been her favorite subject.

"Why can't I go watch you today?" Bubbee asked slightly offended.

"Because the technical round is the most tiring day, and the best numbers are always made on the second day." Santana argued. What she wanted was not allowed bubbee to see our first controversial number.

"What about the girls who will sleep here?" She asked.

"They will come at night, after the round, bubbee, if that is okay." I said.

"It's all right. I just want to be sure to leave everything prepared for you and your friends. We've never welcomed any of them before, even Brittany. It's quite exciting."

When we left to the theater, Santana had the pleasure of driving Zaide's brand new Cadillac. The car looked like a comfortable spaceship full of appeals that you barely hear the engine noise. Our modest Nissan couldn't compare with. Once I parked my car besides Zaide's, I saw my team right there near the school bus, stretching arms and legs after a not so long trip. Most of the team members have a car but the bus was a school police rule, I think, that's why my fellows travelled so uncomfortably.

"At least I know I won't see that damn bus until tomorrow" Mercedes took her bag on the Cadillac suitcase. "The others can go with Rachel. I wanna get in this damn Cadillac. What a car, Santana!"

"It's my grandpa's." My sister helped Tina with her bag.

"I think I will love meet them."

I was surprised by Quinn's approach with a camera in hand. She smiled and took my photo. I didn't remember seeing her with that kind of professional camera and even knew Quinn liked to take pictures. She seemed lighter too, after had left the cheerios. I thought she was even more beautiful with her hair down, if that was possible.

"That was great!" She smiled and showed me the result. Flawless.

"I didn't know that you photographed!"

"I've photographed since I can remember." She lifted the camera. "This was one of the few things my father couldn't take from me."

"You will take photos of the Regionals?"

"I was thinking more on registering our backstage."

"We could make a gallery in our choir room! It would be inspirational, especially if we win."

"That's a good idea."

"Rachel, Quinn..." Mike called us.

It was time to get dressed and focus. The New Directions would be the seventh group on the program. As more teams were qualified from the Sectionals this year, so the organization changed the maximum time to seven minutes for each performance. The competition began in the afternoon with a surprising full house. Most of the teams have opted to perform tunes from the popular repertoire. Things like the beautiful "Sound of Silence", a great adaptation of "Let it Be" and a unusual "Gimme Shelder".

It was a shock when New Directions went to stage with black clothes as if we would go out to a party on a chic night club. Artie started singing "Blame It (on the alcohol)" and the rest of the choir followed with a good, consistent sensuous choreography. Artie, Mercedes, Puck and Santana had the most of the solo lines and the rest of the team made the vocals. The audience was divided. Choir competitions traditionally attracted older people and Vocal Adrenaline, who had a rejuvenated public, was not present. The younger audience made a standing ovation, the older clapped respectfully. This created a tension on the backstage.

"I knew it was a bad choice of repertoire!" Finn complained "We should have composed an original song for this part too! But you insisted to vote." He accused Santana.

"You think we could do a full album when we barely could make one decent pop song on time. Quinn and Rachel took a week to write Get it Right and they fought in the process. Of course one more original song was out of the question. It was logic, something you don't understand." Santana fought back.

"And we were impeccable." Mercedes helped. "The song was awesome. You're complaining because we no longer accept your pathetic duet with Rachel!"

"My pathetic duet with Rachel guaranteed a championship!" Finn raised his voice and looked at me wanting my help. But I couldn't. The girls had a point.

"What? We lost on the last time you two took the lead vocals!" Santana put her hand on her hip and glared defiantly. I followed everything in the corner of the room trying to maintain my neutrality. "My sister is great, but you suck and took our performance down! Artie and Puck sing better than you!"

"Will you two stop?" Mr. Schue got into the room. "The result is not out yet, so we don't know anything. We agreed with this setlist as team, and as a team we will accept the victory or the defeat."

The team fell in silent. Tension reigned until Schuester called us again for the classification results. It was a close call. The New Directions was ranked forth, while the Warblers won the round and would be the last to perform the next day. The good news was all the teams had its score reset for the next round, so everybody had the same chance to win. We hugged each other, but we were tense. Santana and Finn even greeted. Finn and I shared a discreet kiss. Quinn and Sam did the same. Mike and Tina were less discreet. No matter, we fulfill our goal to qualify for Saturday. Then yes, we would show our new songs.

Santana drove Mercedes, Tina and Brittany. I was responsible for driving Lauren and Quinn, and followed my sister back to our grandparents' house.

"Turn on the radio!" Lauren demanded along the way. I didn't like this girl. She was rude and couldn't sing, but she was with Puck and had beat up my sister once. Furthermore, she saved us at the Sectionals.

"Turn of the radio. I appreciate the silence after so much noise and singing." Quinn was so relaxed in the passenger seat that amused me. "Do you think we could go to Eire tomorrow? I bet it must be like to see the sea."

"Except for the big waves." I was smiling. "Have you ever seen the lake."

"I haven't." I found it surprising.

"The Eire is near from where my grandparents live. Not that close, but it is perfectly feasible to go by bike or walking if you want to exercise. There is a public park where my grandparents used to take me and Santana. If you want, I can take you there in the morning."

"It would be great. Deal!"

When we got home. The girls met our grandparents and we took them to the guest house. They were impressed with the comfort of the place. Bubbee received us with a feast that also caused a great impression. Tina and Mercedes found the DVD collection and chose Harry Potter's movies to watch and relax. Santana and Brittany locked themselves on the only bedroom of the guest house and the rest of us rested peacefully on the mattresses around the small living room.

…

So I wake up and noticed a warn body perfectly embraced to mine. I thought it was Santana's. We cuddled this way every time we slept in the same bed. But such was my shock when I realized my sister slept with Brittany in the bedroom, and that arm on my waist was way paler. I discreetly looked to my behind: it was Quinn. My heart was pounding. I didn't know if I was embarrassed or happy. I mean, I have wanted be close friend with Quinn like forever, but what I felt was odd, different. Definitely, I didn't know what that was about. Maybe I should just ignore. Maybe Quinn, like Santana, was a cuddle person and the embrace against my body overnight was circumstantial.

I gently took her arm from my waist and got up. I ran to my room on the main house where my stuffs were. Bubbee fixed a terrific breakfast, and I have never seen such happy faces during a meal. The clock still marked half past nine in the morning and I remembered my promise to Quinn the day before. We had a plenty of time to enjoy the city since the second round started at seven and we had to be in the theater at six p.m.

"So, do you want to see the Eire?" I asked to Quinn. It was cold but the weather was clean.

"Of course. I was looking forward this tour."

"Should we invite the other girls?"

"I think Santana will show the city for them, so it's just you and me."

"If you say so."

We get in the car and in less than five minutes we were in the park at the margin of one of the biggest lakes in the world. It was just a piece of public land since most of the coast of the city was woefully subdivided and privatized. We could have walking a little further, to the museum Rose Hill, to enjoy a bit more of the coast and the beach. But that little space seems enough.

"This is beautiful!" Quinn smiled and took off her shoes so she stepped in the sand. "Looks like the sea."

"Yes. It is a freshwater sea."

She wet her feet in that cold water. I admired the courage. People who visited the ocean or other significant body of water like to do it, I didn't know why. I am too afraid of any body of water that exceeds the height of my hips. I drowned once when I was a kid in a lake on Oregon and I've never got over the trauma.

Quinn picked up her camera and began to take photos.

"The weather is good today." I tried a small talk. "You should come here at sunset. The tones of the sky are pink and lilac… so wonderful. Too bad we don't have a sky like that in Lima. You would take great pictures." She pointed the camera at me and fired a few times.

"Do you come here often? I mean, in Cleveland?"

"At least three times a year to visit zaide and bubbee."

"Why do you call your grandparents zaide and bubbee? I think it's cute, but don't understand the meaning."

"Zaide and bubbee mean Grandpa and Grandma in Hebrew. That's it. The Berries represent the Jewish side of the family and Santana and I learned to speak a little Hebrew."

"And the Spanish?"

"It is our second language. Papa made sure we learned Spanish fluently and I'm glad he did it. It's easier when you travel abroad and speak the two most important languages of the world, aside Mandarin."

"Then why Santana was in Mr. Schue's Spanish class?"

"Easy A. She said she sleeps most of the time because Mr. Schue sucks hard. And the books? Ridiculous. Santana and I read Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Quino in Spanish at home."

"Quino?"

"Don't you know Mafalda and her globe?" Quinn noted negative. "Basta!" I raised my fist as Mafalda makes in the comic, but Quinn was still clueless. "It's just a comic character."

"Interesting." Quinn enjoyed again the scenery. "It should be fun to grow up among this ethnic and cultural diversity."

"I don't know other reality. Maybe that's why I don't understand some of your attitudes or Sylvester's. You made racists comments about me and my sister once. I don't know if you realized in this way, but that hurts."

"You called me Barbie once and I could say that was a bit racist too."

"I'm sorry. I was just surprised and angry."

"That's ok. Well… not everything I said in that damn school was necessarily what I really think." Quinn had hazel eyes that changed color according to the light. At that moment, when I looked at her, the eyes were completely green. They were so beautiful and intimidating at the same time.

"It doesn't seem wise." I averted my gaze and turned to the lake. "You know? Hide yourself?"

"Not everyone has the luxury to be so crystalline as you, Lopez 2, and I think it's unwise to show yourself so clearly in a certain way."

"Really? This means that there is another Quinn Fabray I should know?"

"It will depend on how much you are willing to find out." This conversation took an awkward turn. Quinn challenged me as a predator and I not believed that it was only game scene.

"I think we better go." I cut the conversation. "We have a competition to face."

The ride to home was silent. Quinn didn't exchange another word with me, not even when we went out again to the theater. Zaide and bubbee accompanied us as our special guests. The girls occupied a single dressing room, so we wore our costumes, warmed up our voices and waited. New Directions would be the third to perform and it wasn't that good. But we had a lot of confidence and the certainty that our original songs would work. Who else would think the same?

I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate as much as possible. I tried not to talk to anyone else before going onstage. When I finally did, with safe simple steps, and started singing "Get it Right" with my heart, my body produced that natural drug that made us be strangely happy. I was emotional, and, the same time, so high. Santana was the second to enter the stage and she had to stay three steps back and two steps to the left side to harmonize with me. Halfway through the song, the other girls came and completed the choir. Santana joined them to dance a simple choreography behind me. I heard nothing and saw no one, only my voice. When I realized, people in the audience were doing a standing ovation. "Loser Like Me" was performed next.

We were perfect and we won.

We celebrated as we were at a party and I could not believe we had won with my composition. I had to thank my mother to inspire me to create my own song, my own words. I saw the group hugging, people kissing, and everybody was congratulating me, even the other teams. But I needed to be alone, to take out the stage to isolate myself and unload the adrenaline, catch my breath and emotions. The dressing room was empty so I took advantage. I put my hand on my face and breathed deeply several times. After some time, the door was open and I was so sure it was Finn, but I preferred to stay with my back to him.

"Everyone is happy for the winning, but I think no one will ever know the true meaning it has to me. It's New York, the city I love most in this world, of which I am destined. Could you feel it? I've been there a few times, but now everything is different. How I get there is different, and so right. We won with our heart and it showed me all the good feelings I have for you..."

When I turned toward Finn, I was startled. It was Quinn. I didn't have time to apologize or say anything else. She put her hand on my neck and pulled me into a kiss on the lips. It was a firm touch, determined, warm. My heart was pounding. It hit so hard that I could have a heart attack. I didn't know if it was good or bad, just that I had never felt it in my life. Quinn stepped back and looked at me for a second before turning her back and exited the dressing room without a word. I also was speechless. I stood there, stunned, still feeling the impression of her lips on mine. I had this strange feeling in my stomach. My whole body had reacted and didn't understand why.

I shook my head. I didn't need that kind of felling in my life, even though it was perfectly natural that a woman admires another and physically express it. But I liked Finn. I loved him. We were endgame. Right?

Right?


	16. S2 - Stuyvesant

**Stuyvesant**

**(Rachel)**

Finn and I were kissing again between the second and third class. Since the Regionals, Finn was more and more enthusiastic with our new old relationship. As for me, for the first time, I wasn't so sure about what I wanted in the loving field. I was asking myself every day why I couldn't talk to him about certain things in my life?

Finn could touch my breasts and we made out like a normal couple. We just needed to stop sometimes because of that small problem he had when he get very excited. Not that bothered me so much. His erection was an irrefutable sign that Finn wanted me. Daddy once told that my plans to keep my virginity may change if I meet the right person. Finn was that someone. So why haven't I had this desire yet? Why, when I felt his erection, I didn't feel like touching it even above the clothes? One day I heard a girl (not my sister, or Brittany) talking about how her boyfriend loved the way she massaged his testicles while she give him a blow job. I didn't have the same desire to do these things with Finn because de idea of having a penis in my mouth wasn't that appealing, even without my gag reflex.

"We should come back." I whispered when I felt him getting hard.

"We can skip a class." He continued to kiss me but I pushed him away gently.

"Bad idea." I smiled slightly. "We're risking too much with these escapades."

"Why? We're not doing anything wrong."

"I have my reasons and you know what they are."

"I am not proposing or forcing you to give me your virginity before you're 25." Finn rolled his eyes. "I just wanna be with you a little more."

"And I say I need to be in Math class in order to pass the tests. I'm not Santana, Finn. I need to push myself a little more."

"You and your craze with Santana, it sucks, don't you know?" He snapped.

"What?"

"You are always thinking you aren't so beautiful, so sexy and so smart. You should stop it because you are much better than her. Your talent is unique."

"Just like every other person on the planet." I muttered.

"What?"

"I know who I am, Finn, and I wasn't comparing myself to my sister. This is called reference no comparison." I pulled away.

"I'm sorry, Rach. I didn't want..."

"Let it go." I ran my hand through my hair to make them presentable.

Finn held my hand and we walked down the hallway towards my class. We crossed with the last person you'd like to see the world in those days. Sam stopped to talk to Finn as he held the hand of his girlfriend. I couldn't look anywhere but at that linked fingers. That bothered me and so as be faced with Quinn.

Since that stolen kiss in Cleveland, I avoid talking to her, but it seems impossible in that school. Quinn and I had classes together and also Glee. She was still kind, made no comments about my dating, and kept herself away despite the little touches. It was a torment. Every time I felt her skin on my arm or on my back, it was as if the sensation was more prolonged than normal. Worst of all: she smelled incredibly well.

Finn and Sam greeted before each couple went their way. I looked back and caught her looking to me. I turned my head quickly.

"What?" Finn frowned.

"What was what?"

"You look out of breath."

"Am I?" I hadn't noticed, but I was. "I think you did this to me."

Finn smiled at the corner of the face and left me in my class.

…

**(Santana)**

The phone was burning in my hands. I checked three times on the internet the result of students who were accepted into Stuyvesant. I neither knew there were so many people trying until the test day, when I came across a crowded room of candidates. The list of people who want to get into Stuyvesant was huge for a limited number of seats. Then the final result was posted: Berry-Lopez, Santana. There was my name on that quite small list. My heart froze.

Stuyvesant High School and New York would become a reality for me in May because I need to do summer classes if I have plans to graduate next year. I didn't want to demonstrate insecurity to Brittany, but I was scared to death.

"You need to talk to her!" Brittany encouraged me. "It's wonderful news."

"Maybe I should wait to get home..."

"Today we'll stay up late because of the Glee."

"So what?"

"The rehearsals will distract you, and you will forget, and you will only tell her in time to packing."

"Rachel won't react well. I promised to take care better to her and know she will be alone again."

"Just do it San. The sooner, the better."

"You'll be by my side, right?"

"All the time!"

I had to tell Rachel I was leaving. I checked again the screen of my phone. The result was there. My name was still there. I took a breath and held Brittany's hand. Rachel was in the courtyard's table with some of our friends.

"Santana!" My sister smiled. "We were discussing the setlist for Nationals and Puck made some important observations, including in respect to your..." She frowned upon seeing my strained expression. "What?" And she started to get breathless. "Oh my god, someone died?"

"No!" I tried to calm the beginning of the outbreak. "But something happened and I need to talk to you..." I looked at the others who watched curious. "…alone"

"No! Tell me now, I will take it."

"Rachel..."

"It's something the guys can't hear? A secret? It's something bad?"

"It is not a secret, nor bad. Actually it's good news!" I began to get even more nervous. Rachel had this ability.

"So give the good news to us all."

"Ray..." I had hoped that she would capture the urgency. No wonder I call her by nickname in front of everyone. But the effect was the opposite. Rachel crossed her arms and scowled. I had nothing to do, but showed the screen of my phone. "I got the Stuyvesant's admission and I'm moving to New York right after the Nationals."

"Que vaya al infierno!" She screamed and scared me and so as our friends.

"What?"

"Eres una mentirosa. Usted ha dicho que sus posibilidades eran remotas."

"Disculpe."

"Si te vas?"

"Probablemente!"

"Era lo que querias? Deshágase de La ciudad de perdedores? Yo?"

"No Rachel. Yo nunca queria deshacerse de cualquier cosa..."

"Liar!" Rachel started to shake her hands. "Papá nos há dejado y no puedes soportar a permanecer com nosotros más."

"Rachel, por favor, escúchame!" I tried to hold her arm, but she hit my chin. This made me nuts, then I grabbed her arms. "Quieres dejar de actuar como um niño estúpido?"

"Eres un estúpido y cobarde. Déjame ir!"

"No! Usted va a escuchar ahora..."

"Me haces daño, idiota!"

"Cállate tonta!"

"Get your hands off her!" I heard Finn screaming from the cafeteria.

"San!" Brittany grabbed me by the waist and, in the meantime, Mike has tried to prevent Finn did something stupid while Tina stood between me and Rachel.

"Que vaya al infierno, Santana. Al infierno." Rachel screamed and ran.

"What did you do?" Finn pushed me. "What did you do this time?"

"It's none of your business!" I pushed back as hard as I could.

Finn ran into Mike and overbalanced. He fell on his ass and I would take advantage to give him a kick to his face. But Brittany grabbed me again with the help of Tina and Mercedes. People started screaming around and it caught the attention of coach Beiste.

"This fight ends now." She cried. "Both of you in my room right now."

"But I didn't do anything!" I shouted. "This idiot was the one who came attacking me. Everybody saw it!"

"Santana." The coach shut the expression so that I was afraid. "In my room now or you will be suspended again."

Finn, the idiotic hero, walked first. I searched my phone. It was with Mercedes. I didn't know how it got in her hands.

"Satan?" Wheezy smiled weakly. "Congratulations... New York, right?"

I nodded.

…

**(Quinn)**

Sam was telling me the details of "Avatar's" production and how James Cameron would develop three following stories. I liked the movie, love its photography and I love cinema, but the way my boyfriend talked made me bored. My lonely lunches were more interesting, even if the school food was tasteless. The confusion in Rachel's table caught my attention and gave me a good excuse to completely ignore Sam. She started yelling at Santana in Spanish and it seemed somehow related to the Stuyvesant.

When Rachel ran out, I didn't think twice: I left Sam alone and went after her. I deliberately followed her until she enters an empty room. I stopped outside the door and could listened Rachel's crying. What should I do? I wasn't used to comfort people or saying words of encouragement. Even if I used to be the cheerios captain, I wasn't a good leader and I had to admit that Finn Hudson was way better on this then me. It was easier to destroy somebody with small well-aimed comments. But right there I had to help Rachel.

"Vete, Santana!" Rachel said firmly.

"Rachel? It's me, Quinn" I walked in cautiously.

"What do you want? Let me down one more time?" She turned her face aside. She was crying a lot and it broke my heart.

"Of course not! I'm here because I thought you could need a shoulder to cry on."

I knelt in front of her. Rachel didn't mention in rushing or avoiding me. That gave me a little more courage. Slowly, I ran my fingers through her hair and she wasn't rejected me. So I sat beside and hugged her so that she could fit against my body.

"Why?" She asked.

"Huh?"

"Why are you here being so nice to me?"

"Because I'm your friend, and care about you."

Rachel stared at me with bleary eyes before burying her head in my chest. With one arm, I held her while my other hand I caressed her back to comfort. I wasn't doing this as part of my seduction plan that I've been articulated since the day I left the cheerios. Finn was an idiot that I was disgusted with, but had to recognize he was a strong figure in Rachel's life. My plan was to divert her focus to someone else, in case me, with concise subliminal required actions. I knew she liked citrus fragrances, so I bought a new perfume. I lied saying I didn't know the Lake Eire to urge her to take me there alone. And that's what happened. I waited for the girls to sleep, so I lie beside Rachel to do cuddle on her and be the big spoon. That was one of the best sleeps of my life. I calculated the right time to kiss her and then purposely avoided the subject, but continued to touch her whenever I had a chance. Her reactions indicated that my seduction plan was working.

But there, on the floor of that empty classroom, I action wasn't premeditated.

While Rachel was crying, I continued to hold her. The song "True Love Ways", by Buddy Holly, came to my mind and I began to mutter it. I felt Rachel calming down until she stopped crying. I kept packing lightly and whispering the song, when I realized she was singing softly along me. "_Throughout the days/ our true love ways/ will bring us joys to share/ with Those Who really care/ Sometimes we'll sigh/ sometimes we'll cry/ and we'll know why/ just you and I/ know true love ways._"

I stared Rachel. She was so beautiful and so fragile that scared me. I lift her face and carefully pulled her to a kiss. My heart raced and, at the same time, I felt peace and comfort in that intimate contact. At first, my touch was slight, almost shy. Rachel didn't flinch as I pressed a little more my lips against hers, now in a position to feel the taste of her lipstick with salty tears. Her lips were so soft that I wanted stay there forever.

Rachel continued to respond, so I pressed a tip of my tongue between her lips and asked quietly to get in. Rachel allowed me. Calmly, I began to explore first the texture of the tongue, the softness. It was all so good. The pleasure it gave me was amazing. I don't know how long the kiss lasted, but it was long. We were so lost on each other that I thought that was the way things should be. So Rachel pulled away, but not from me. She continued in silence, comfortably in my arms.

"She's leaving!" She spoke softly. "Why everybody is leaving me? First daddy, now her…"

"I assumed when I saw you fighting, but Rachel, she's not leaving you and I think you should be happy for her. I heard that Stuyvesant is an excellent school."

"It's one of the best."

"And Santana was accepted. How many make it? You should be proud of her."

"I am proud... every day."

"But how many times do you say that?"

"Not so much." Rachel smiled shyly. Then she raised her head to look directly at my face. "I overreacted, didn't I?"

"Yes you did… a lot!"

"I just... I though Santana would be setting off fireworks by leaving our Losertown."

"And if it was otherwise?"

"How so?"

"What if you were the one leaving? Would you be happy to leave your family here?"

"No!" Rachel was shocked with the hypothesis. "Even if I was out of here straight to Broadway, I still would suffer a lot."

"I bet Santana is also suffering and..." Someone opened the door, interrupting us.

One of the teachers came into the room and looked at us with a question mark on his face. Without saying a word, I stood up and offered my hand to help Rachel also stand. I apologized to the teacher and we went out the classroom. We walked side by side down the hallway to the locker room that I knew it would be empty at that time. Rachel needed a cold water to wash her swollen face. I stood there, beside her, helping her.

"Thanks for everything." Rachel smiled weakly at me.

"You can count on me whenever you need and want, Rachel. I like you."

"As the way you like Sam?"

"No... It's different." I closed the door to make sure no one else would go there. "Sam is my boyfriend, but I actually..." I took a deep breath. "I like girls, Rachel. And I like you for real."

"Since when?"

"It's been a while."

Rachel lowered her head.

"I don't know what to say, Quinn. I am glad you told me, but I don't know if I could return your feelings as you expect. I have too much in my mind right now."

"I know… I got it. But it's a relief to finally be able to say that to someone else than the mirror." She smiled and it made me relieved.

"I know people say that I can't keep a secret, but I can. This conversation won't leave this locker, I swear."

"Thank you."

"I... I need to go."

"Okay… Rachel" She stopped at the door. "You need to talk with your sister. I speak from my own experience: don't let her go without make amends."

"Could I also give you some advice?"

"Of course!"

"Sam is a good guy, Quinn. He doesn't deserve to be cheated and you deserve to seek your happiness with the right… girl."

Rachel said nothing more and I had to agree with her. So the first thing I did was look for Sam. We broke up in the auditorium and I gave him back his promising ring.

…

**(Rachel)**

It was a confusing day in many ways. Santana, Quinn, Finn… These three confounded my mind. In the case of my sister, my feelings were simple: I didn't want to lose her. The idea of Santana in New York and leave me here scared me. Santana was my best friend, despite all our fights and confusion. She was one of the people I loved most in this world. For the good or the bad, there was an invisible umbilical cord between us that didn't allow us to stay separated for long.

Finn and Quinn were antagonists of a confusing story. I loved Finn, but Quinn's kiss and her confession made me feel things I've never imagined. My lower stomach reacted to her touch and there was something I had never felt with my own boyfriend. I didn't know if it was because Quinn was a dear friend, or because she was a girl, or because she confessed that she liked me. What did that mean? The person who tortured me and feuded with me for so long now kissed me and comforted me like no one. What I felt for her? My head was spinning and throbbing.

I heard someone knocks the door and then opened it: that was Santana. She walked slowly and lay beside me. We still hadn't forgotten the terrible fight in the school, but our relationship didn't follow certain patterns. Santana didn't apologize, and I always forgave her in silence.

"Hi." she ducked under my covers.

"How are you?"

"Scared to death." Such a direct confession was rare. That made my heart grow even tighter. "Papa is torn downstairs."

"Then don't go."

"Ray... if I were just an ordinary friend in the same situation, what would you say?"

I frowned and thought carefully. So I faced my sister's eyes.

"I would tell you to go to New York and study in Suyvesant."

So I understood everything: Santana needed to go for her own good.

"I'm so proud of you!" I said as firmly as my quivering voice enabled. "When we were little, I always enjoyed watching you doing such amazing things... You was the best player of our soccer team, you climbed all the trees and walls in our neighborhood, you were the fearless leader of our little gang of kids, you save me from bigger girls and boys countless times... I thought you could fly if you wanted". Then I said with a firm voice. "Today, I'm sure you can fly." Santana was already melting into tears "I won't lie: I want you stay here because I'm a selfish jerk. But the truth is: Lima is not your place."

"You don't belong here either."

"I wish I could go with you."

"Then come!"

"How? Papa won't let me go. You know his promise: He won't give us a penny if we decide to leave home before college. Of course he's going to help you in New York because of Stuyvesant, but what about me?"

"I don't know… Ray. I don't know…"

…

**Author Notes:**

**ichigo111981**: I understand your point of view and I agree with your arguments. But these characters have moral and ethical flaws. They want to do the right thing, but the way isn't always the correct one. Quinn is the most complex of the three. She is capable to manipulate to get her goals. She can be a cheater, a bitch, a predator, but she is also has a good heart and the desire to me a better person. It's a learning process and it could be slow. Not long time (chapters) ago, Quinn was dealing with her sexuality, the adoption, the little money. It's a lot of things, don't you agree? It's not an easy way and she's not perfect.

Rachel is torn. She's been fighting for Finn so long that is difficult to her to accept that he maybe isn't her endgame. And she has other things to deal with. It's hard!

So, be patient.


	17. S2 - New York part 1

**NEW YORK – PART 1**

**(Rachel)**

Nationals! Finally! This is a three days competition with the 12 Regionals winners, plus two champion's teams from Alaska and Hawaii and the current National champion, in case: Vocal Adrenaline, from Lima, Ohio. The first day is the technical competition with a pre-established theme. The organization chooses an artist, a music style, or music from a specific decade to be executed. Five teams are eliminated in this round. On the second day, there is a technical and artistic judgment with a pre-determined or free theme. Five more are eliminated. The five finalists compete on the third day and they may or not use a 12 minutes setlist. Generally, the theme is free.

Saturday, the big final, is when the big show happens. The house is full and the audience is hungry for fun. The great talent also needed to communicate well, thrill, winning the audience that directly influences the opinion of the judges-celebrities. This is the point here, because technically, all five remaining teams are equivalent: they are already the best in the country. There is more at stake: some scouts use to attending the competition in search of the best soloists, the most interesting people and the best dancers.

I heard that when the Nationals go through New York, there were producers in the audience looking for new people to make some off-off-Broadway play that serves to test a particular concept for a bigger show. Well… choose somebody in a choir competition is cheaper and you already do the first audition right there, on the stage. I know a case of an actor who managed to win Broadway this way: discovered in a choir competition. So, in resume, that was my first big chance.

It was also the last great performance of New Directions current group. Noah, Mike and Lauren were going to graduate this summer. Mike was accepted at Princeton, Lauren was going to a college in Utah, and Noah would survive somehow. There was also Brittany: Her father moved to Los Angeles and the rest of the family was also all packed. It was the first opportunity of Mr. Pierce in a major newspaper, so he couldn't let this escape. Santana is going to Stuyvesant in three weeks. My sister would live in New York first then I. How unfair!

I considered this an unique opportunity to do a happy end for my team. Next school year, we would have to start working hard to rebuild the group, so winning the Nationals would be fundamental for that: everybody likes to be part of a winner group. Despite Schuester and Finn, our team chose the songs that fit on three big topics: sex, drugs and rock'n'roll. We use the pre-established program to create a piece performed in three acts with well knowing songs. It's National, all the teams invest on great productions, and amateur original song hardly wins the audience. Of course we had a plan "B" in case we can't put into practice the first. That was a precaution we take after we learned our lesson in our first competition.

"Do you really think this crazy idea will work?"

"It's a risk, Quinn. But we need to distingue ourselves from other choirs somehow. This is a very competitive environment, and we need to consider the possibility of more stringent positions with regard to creativity because it is the land of Broadway and the places with the best professional..."

"Ok, ok... I get it!" Quinn rolled her eyes and then smiled. "You have talking about that a million times."

I was increasingly bewitched by that smile and those eyes. When I heard she broke up with Sam because of me, to show she was no longer willing to play games, I was secretly very happy. She said she would give me room for the Nationals, so I could focus on the numbers. The team practiced every day for three hours and I was pleased to see that everyone faces it with the utmost professionalism, despite my sister' dog mood. But in time to board the bus, knowing that Finn held two armchairs in front row because of his long legs, Quinn didn't hesitate to travel by my side.

"My father saw online a studio for rent in Little Italy" I said to Quinn.

"What?"

"Santana. It's possible that she will live alone in a studio in Little Italy. The apartment is not far from Stuyvesant and she can go to school by bike. Broadway Avenue is near from there, did you know?"

"It will be weird not to see Santana in the next semester."

"Santana will live in New York before me. That is weird!"

"Sometimes I get the feeling that you will end up in NYC sooner than you think." Quinn turned to face the window and frowned.

"Would you miss me?" I teased.

"You?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Honestly, I would consider a great offense if you miss Santana and not me. I was your greatest opponent in school."

"You? My greatest opponent? Keep dreaming, Lopez 2. You were my favorite target, but Lopez 1 was my truly opponent... she still is."

"Quinn, you will deny that I was your main model while you developing your artistic abilities?"

"What?"

"I'm talking about all pornography you 'published' about me in the bathroom and the collection of my caricatures that you have in a certain notebook. I'm not counting that I stole almost all your boyfriends in school: Finn and Noah. And don't forget that I gave you a push to be with Sam. True be told, I was the most remarkable person in your school life. "

"Do not talk like that!" She closed her expression.

"Like what?"

"As if saying goodbye."

Quinn looked back at the window and this time she ignored me for a long time. The bus was quiet because the tiredness of the long journey. Quinn moved as if to find a position for napping. She was so different since that bathroom confession. The camera became a regular company even in school. I was impressed when I saw her pictures on line: all artistic, with interesting light control, and without filters. Before, I wouldn't be surprised if I saw Quinn dressed in a well pantsuit to work in a large law company. My view about her has changed. Now I could see a beautiful woman traveling around the world, dressed in a vest press, denouncing injustice through the lens of a camera.

"I'll get water. Want something in the cooler?" Sam offered, already jumping Noah's legs.

"No thanks!" Quinn even took her eyes from the window and I confess that gestures were thus able to make the blood freeze. She was a naturally intimidating kind of person.

Sam went to the front of the bus, where were Mr. Schuester, Brad, Lauren and Finn. I was curious why Finn hadn't come to us once. Or he was asleep or too busy with that damn portable videogame. Finn irritated me when it came to games. He acted like a big kid sometimes that was able to prefer that infernal game then to be with me. Unless our action involved me lying in bed on top of him, preferably creating friction in certain parts.

"NYC ahead!" Schuester yelled and we all celebrated except Quinn who seemed oblivious.

"Not excited?" I frowned and she finally turned her face towards me.

"Why would I?"

"Because it's New York, the greatest city of the world! Where we all may be National champions.

"Maybe." And she almost completely ignored me.

Almost! Though her face has returned to the window, I felt her arm moving against mine until she finally took my hand and intertwined our fingers. I felt more shivers down your spine and butterflies beating inside the stomach. I was fighting the idea of falling in love with Quinn Fabray.

…

The New Directions faced heavy traffic to go to Harlem. The little hotel that we would stay in was a nice six floors building. It charged a cheap daily that other the guests a basic breakfast and has bunkers as option in the rooms. Downstairs there was a reception, the cafeteria and a communal lounge with TV. There was a pub in the basement, but under 18 wasn't allowed. There was also the roof with a few tables with umbrellas where guests use to sunbath or other stuffs.

Good thing we left Lima with everything booked because the hotel was full. Besides the usual people from other countries that travel inexpensively but looks for more comfort and privacy than you could find on a hostel, The North Carolina's choir was also staying there. We try to be friendly with them, but the reception wasn't the same.

I was happy to see that the rooms were spacious and clean with three bunk beds and a single bed as it was sought. There was a small TV and the usual fridge with expensive drinks on there in our room. And the hotel also gave us two keys that Mercedes and I were in charge. The first bunk on the left, closest to the window, were chosen by Quinn and Tina. Santana and I shared the bunk right immediately then. Mercedes and Brittany were in the nearest bunk of the bathroom door and Lauren took the single bed.

"How strange that other choir." Tina smiled as she put her bag on the top bunk.

"I had the impression that the red head guy would explode when they knew we were adversaries." Mercedes commented.

"Maybe they were planning to do extra rehearsals in the hotel and we spoil the plans." At least that's how I interpreted the reaction of other coral.

"We could spy them." Mercedes wondered.

"You are so childish." Santana muttered as she lay on the top of our bunk.

"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, Lopez 1?" Quinn teased.

"Are you interested in knowing what side of the bed I sleep, Fabray?"

"It's the left one." Brittany replied.

"Hey, Quinn and Santana." Mercedes got between these two. "Give me a break! Like Mr. Schue said: this is not the time to fight. We have to save our anger to the stage."

"There is a Starbucks near here." Tina changed the subject. "Somebody's up?"

"Decaffeinated to Santana!"

"Quinn!" Now it was my turn to fight.

"The same to you, Lopez 2." Quinn smiled.

"I agree." Mercedes beat on Quinn's shoulders. "Give caffeine to the Berry-Lopez sis and as a result we would have a Taz-Mania-Rachel speaking elbows and Dr. Santana House grumping around more than she already had. Nobody would survive for Nationals..."

"Thank you Mercedes, but know that I have many healthy lifestyle habits, beyond my own regular vitamins that prevent harm. In other words, I do not need nor enjoy making use of certain stimulants beverages... humf..." Quinn grabbed me from behind to cover my mouth using excessive energy.

"Get your paws off her, tubers." Santana jumped off the bunk bed in two seconds. On the next one, Brittany was holding her by the waist.

"This is out of control." Tina also tried to contain Santana.

"It was just a joke." Quinn let me go. "I wouldn't hurt Rachel, Jesus Christ! What's your problem?"

"Las chicas están con razón. Usted está sobrepasando los limites." I held Santana by the shoulders and I was careful to speak in Spanish because I know the other girls had trouble understanding it.

"Leave me, okay?" She told Brittany. I use the time to hold Santana's hand and pulled her out of the room. My sister still had to push Quinn on the way.

"Tenemos que hablar ahora!"

I pulled Santana toward the roof we had access by internal stairs. As I thought correctly, the place was empty. It wasn't much there and the sunbeds were very dirty and older than they appeared in the pictures. I felt disgusted by them because soon came to my mind all those movies with couples having sex on the roofs like that one. When in doubt, I prefer to stay stand. Santana had her back to me, looking at a landscape that wasn't a big deal.

"Your quarrel went too far." She kept standing, looking at the horizon. "I am aware that you are stressed, but our friends didn't have anything to do with Brittany going to L.A, or daddy's death, or that you are moving to this city in three weeks and you are afraid."

"Ray, do me a favor: let me breathe for two seconds, and in five minutes I promise I will come down and talk to you calmly and, maybe, apologize with the girls, ok? But just let me stay a bit away from the others?" And she sat on one of the disgusting sunbeds.

"Five minutes!"

I went down the stairs and was aiming to go to the room when Brittany approached me halfway.

"It's my fault." She said looking between her fingers, as if she had broken some window glass.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm moving to Los Angeles and that's why San is angry. Now she'll have to move to this city, when what she really wanted was to be with you, your father and me. If I stayed in Lima, San would too, but I can't. My mother enrolled me in a dance company in Los Angeles where I'll be able to improve. It's what I like doing, Rach. I'm not the brightest cookie, I will be lucky if I finish high school, so my dance is the only chance I have to be someone with own identity."

Brittany was part right. She was one of the reasons of Santana stress, but she wasn't the one to blame.

"She's up there on the roof." I said Brittany. "Go there and talk to her. My sister always feels better when she's with you, no matter how angry she is. So, go there and making peace, ok?" By making peace between the two could mean "do a quickie." My thoughts turned back to the sunbed and my stomach turned a little.

"Do you think she will forgive me and come to terms with everybody?"

"I'm sure she will! Santana can't resist your sweet lady kisses."

"Neither can I. Thanks Rach." Brittany hugged briefly and took the path of stairs.

The tension between New Directions and the North Carolina's choir was almost physical. If not so, Mr. Schuester wouldn't be giving any moral lesson for the boys. I wasn't interested in discussions and thanked by the bedroom door was before the arguing crowded ahead.

"Your conversation with Santana was fast." Quinn was the only one in the room. She lay back on her bed listening to music on ipod.

"Where are the girls?"

"On Starbucks, I believe. They will bring for you and Santana a decaf."

"Whatever." I sat on my bed. "Sorry about Santana, the push and everything. She is going through a lot of things and my sister tends to react with some violence… you know her."

"I accept your apology with a condition"

"What is it?"

"Give me a kiss." My heart skipped a beat.

"What?" I was surprised and excited at the same time with Quinn's sudden attitude. She was the one who said she would give me space.

"You heard me. I want your kiss of excuses."

"You, Quinn Fabray, want to kiss me?"

"You talk as if we hadn't done it before. But yes, I do!"

I approached and leaned. I kissed her lightly on the lips.

"Satisfied?"

"It was interesting... But I know you can do better." She looked at me, challenging me.

She pulled me against her body, then ran a hand on my neck and our lips met again. Soon, our tongues were dancing. I think I went into a trance. It was always so good to be with Quinn and I confess I was missing her touch.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do it again." She whispered in my ear. "Having to stand next to you, singing with you, respecting your space and see you with that idiot. That was torture, Rach."

"It is?" I was still dizzy.

"I want you, Rachel Berry-Lopez." Once again, she kissed my lips and the smile that came to kill me. "I heard the New York buildings usually have interesting roofs."

"Yeah... NO!" The word roof made me back to reality and Quinn frowned. "I mean, we can't go to the roof or anywhere else. Santana and Britt are right there making peace and god knows how much it is fundamental not only to the quality of my home life as well as for the competition tomorrow. Besides, I'm still with Finn and it's bad enough that I'm cheating on him."

"Still? I mean, tomorrow you may no longer be dating, right?"

The door opened suddenly and I turn away immediately in a fantastic reaction time that deserved to be measured. Kurt came in our room with a well flushed face.

"Dear Rachel." He put his hands on my shoulder. "We need to stop these thugs from North Carolina."

"What is the problem, more precisely?" Quinn asked.

"Puck made a joke about the soloist's girlfriend and, surprise, they not stand the game."

"Typical." Quinn rolled her eyes and turned to put the phone of the ipod.

"Rach." Finn came to the door with a red face. That was definitely not my day. "Do you have a moment?"

"What was it this time?"

"Schuester wants to talk to us. Things are getting out of control here."

Finn took me to the lounge where the other choir directors were. Mr. Schue was waiting for us along with an asian woman and that red head guy from the other choir. The discussion began. If it was related to the competition, I would be more attentive student, especially if we could know a vital information to win. Quinn's blaze attitudes had some point: this kind of quarrel and disagreement honestly add nothing. So I sat on the couch, crossed my arms and legs, rolled eyes most of the time and waited them to finish. So much noise to nothing. Finally, it was established that the teams should avoid any interaction.

"That woman was not easy." Finn referred to the other director.

"Frankly. They are fighting for nonsense. As if Noah would stop hitting on any living being with breasts and a vagina." It looked like my sister talking.

"There are certain things that should be off limits and Puck has a girlfriend."

"The limits are set for ourselves, Finn. Noah could flirt with any girl, but she should have dumped him in the first place. Noah isn't smart for many things, but he knows how playing this game. I bet the girl gave him a hint."

"You've been defending Puck so much these days." Finn grabbed my arm. "You've been walking away from me these days. What is happing, Rachel?"

"Do not be ridiculous." I made a sudden movement to make him drop me.

"Sorry! I think it's the stress that is taking the best of me"

"We're all nervous for several other reasons. This is just one more."

"I would call you out for coffee, but..."

"We have to take care of the team."

"Exactly!"

He bend down to kiss me but all I could do was gave him a peck. In that moment, I realized that I couldn't be with him anymore when my mind was with Quinn. Still, broke up in the Nationals could be terrible for the team. So I had to hold on until the torment over.


	18. S2 - New York part 2

**NEW YORK – Part 2**

**(Rachel)**

The auditorium had a nice audience, but it wasn't crowded on the first day. Even so, that was better than I expected for two o'clock of a Thursday. We were the fourth team to perform. The third one, Strawberry Fields, from High Salen, Oregon, was defending a song by Carole King. They weren't that good in my opinion. I love Carole King music, but the arrangement for multiple voices wasn't well done. Based on the audience reaction, I would say the Oregon team would have trouble to qualifying. The light blinked for the first time in the waiting room: five minutes to our performance. I could feel the apprehension growing in the New Directions.

Finn had that distant and lost look. Soon, he would begin to walk from one side to another and then make moves like it's starting to warm up for a game. Artie snapped his fingers, Tina looked at everyone as if she was angry, Lauren was doing crunches, Mike stretched, Kurt had that look of someone who wanted to run away, and Quinn was leaning against a chair as if she was sick. I looked at Finn and then to Quinn and I was trying to avoid both, still, I needed to talk with someone before going on the stage. Santana was just there by my side.

"How are you doing?" I asked my sister.

"I'll nail it." Her confidence was always remarkable in these times.

"Hopefully, because if you waver, I will kill you. I bet my skin on you as soloist in the technical round!"

"Rachel... relax. I got it."

Santana would be our main player on the first round, and the most important one because if she fails, goodbye Nationals. The performance came from a joke: what if Amy Winehouse sings Lou Reed? I knew I was the most technical singer of New Directions and the best option for a solo on this round, but I hadn't the necessary aggression. Santana fits as a glove on the porpoise, so she won the part. Of course I made her to work her singing and apply the technique correctly on our rehearsals in the pool house.

The lights blinked again. The boys of our jazz band were already positioned. Our presentation would have the classical battery-bass-guitar-keyboards formation, but with the version was a little heavier than the originals. We were prepared for Act 1.

Everyone ran to the initial positions, Mike gave a brief monologue to introduce our nine minutes musical play. He was chosen because surprisingly he was the best actor among us. Then the band started playing and I went singing the last verse of "Walk On the Wild Side". "_Jackie is just speeding away/ thought she was James Dean for a day..._" The voices were added and the group was positioned singing "_doo doo doo_..."

Santana was in front of the stage next to Mike. Countdown, the boys begin to play at once, forming a deafening wall of sound. The lighting is dark at first, with a spot on the Santana dressed in jeans, black all star and black tank top. The mash-up was an insinuated relationship between the user and the dealer. Santana played the user, while we would be the dealers. Our plan was to do a musical number from Broadway, taking into account the proper proportions.

"_I'm wainting for my man/ 26 dollars in my hand/ Up to Lexington, 125/ Feel sick and dirty, more dead than alive/ I'm waiting for my man_". While Santana sang the first verse alone, we began to evolve on the stage. The lights went dancing, evolving. The sound was firm but without protruding into our voices. We made arrangements with several smaller ones. "_Hey, white boy, what you doin'uptown?/ Hey, white boy, you chasin'our women around?/ Oh pardon me sir, it's the furthest from my mind/ I'm Just lookin 'for a dear, dear friend of mine._"

The choir interferes more in the third verse, the lights were lighter, brighter. "_Here He comes, he's all dressed in black PR shoes and a big straw hat/ He's never early, he's always late/ First thing you learn is you always gotta wait/ I'm waiting for my man_". Then the third song started, with altered in order to better fit the first song arrangement. All voices were on a powerful, stimulating wave. "_We passed upon the stairs, we spoke of was and when / Although i was not there, He Said i was his friend / Which came as some surprise I spoke into his eyes / i thought you died alone, a long long time ago / oh no, not I / we never lost control / you're face to face / with the man who sold the world._"

Santana regains the solo and back the momentum with the choir. "_Up to a brownstone, up three flights of stairs / everybody's pinned you, but nobody cares. He's got the woks, gives you sweet taste / ah then you gotta split because you got no time to waste._" Gradually we returned to our starting positions, the light dims and Santana have the ground again. "_Baby do not you holler, darlin 'do not you bawl and shout / I'm feeling good, you know I'm gonna work it on out / I'm felling good, I'm feeling oh so fine / till tomorrow, but that's Just other time / I'm waiting for my man_". And our presentation ends with Santana ahead. The band stops and she begins acapella.

"_Hello darkness , my only friend / I've come to talk with you again / Because the vision soflty creeping / Left its seeds while i was sleeping / and the vision That was planted in my brain / Still remains Within the sound of silence._" the girls harmonize with Santana. "_In restless dreams I walked alone / Narrow streets of cobblestone / Neath the halo of street lamp / i turned my collar to the cold and damp / When my eyes were stabbed / by the flash of neon light / that split the night / and touched the sound of silence._"

Santana "dies" on stage in Brittany lap and the boys took the following verses. "_And in the naked light i saw/ ten thousand people, maybe more/ people talking without speaking/ people hearing without listening/ People writing songs that voices never share/ and no one dare/ disturb the sound of silence_" Finally all voices were unite for the final verses of "Sound of Silence".

We hear the audience burst into applause, with people standing up at the end. We ran toward the center of the stage and we bow in gratitude. More than that: I felt we were in, that we would return on Friday. When the lights came up and the curtains were closed, the drive was intense for the next group. The boys in the band barely unplugged the instruments and other musicians were already taking place but the drums, which was the same for everyone. But we were allowed to stay in there a little to celebrate and download the adrenaline.

Neither seemed that Sam was sad because of Quinn, Artie avoided being close to Santana because he was still bitter after the breakup with Brittany, Finn and Noah were wondering, Santana and Quinn were very close to fight, or that most of the members of the choir just tolerate me. Nothing of these cared at that moment. Right there, Finn hugged me, lifted me off the ground and spun me in the air. Then, he gave me a quick kiss on the lips in front of everyone.

"Please leave the area." One of the organizers ordered and we obey to avoid problems such as fines and disqualifications.

We left the stage to the dressing rooms, where we could drink some water and calm down.

"So Rachel, did you think your daily torture worked?"

"I'd say it was a job above expectations" I smiled and hugged Santana. God knows how difficult it was to make this creature work and at the same time be ready to run at the slightest sign that she was going to jump on my neck.

Schuester entered in our dressing room giving high fives.

"You guys were superb. I wanted to beat myself for almost not accept this number. But the choreography..."

"We had to make some changes" Mike explained. "The original lacked the aggression we need and how you had to leave, so I assumed the direction..."

According to the rules, at least the captains and the director had to be present when the results are announced, so most of the team was exempt to enjoy the afternoon and night. Even Finn and I could go if we back in time. But I wanted and needed to know the other contestants, and Mr. Schue also did the same. Finn opted to come back later, but not before trying to convince me to leave with him. Quinn, to my surprise, took the camera in her backpack and stayed.

"I'll take some photos. Maybe I have luck to take unusual things." She said in an almost nonchalant tone as we bought a bottled a snack. Whenever she kissed me, she acted as if nothing had happened. I frowned and thought it would be impossible to continue the game after admitting she wanted me. Still there she was acting this way because of the kiss with Finn? Why, if I hadn't officially over with him and wouldn't even do it during National for the good of the team? And she knew that.

It gave me willingness to do an interrogation, but an interval of 20 minutes for the second block of presentations was ending. I sat in one of the unoccupied chairs next to Mr. Schue and concentrated in presentations. The second block was stronger than ours, where we were the best. High Steinbeck's choir, from North Carolina, was more traditionalist and less performative, but team was very solid and organized. Another strong competitor was Coral House, from the Bronx, New York City. It was almost like watching "Sister Act 2" with Alicia Keys and Jay Z ahead. I had to take a little air in the range.

"Are we so bad?" Quinn met me in the lobby.

"This block five was very strong, and Vocal Adrenaline hasn't even presented yet."

"Hey." Quinn put her hand on my face. "It is going to work, okay?"

"Do you think? What if I fought so much with Schuester to be wrong in the end?"

"What I saw is that the audience cheered us, and as much as I hate to admit, Santana was superb. Nobody so far has invested in a theatrical presentation and that sets us apart from them, even if our performance was polemical. The boys from the jazz club made an excellent arrangement, we did the acapella thing and all technical requirement. There is nothing to fear, Rachel."

"I wish I had your confidence."

"Let's make a bet. Without even see the third block, I guarantee you that we will be in the top five." I tried to argue, but Quinn raised his finger in warning to wait for her to finish. "And if it is confirmed, you will owe me a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"I will say when the time comes, but don't worry: it won't be something dirty or bad."

"What if we fail?"

"Then I will be the one who will owe you a favor."

I looked at her in jeans and black Iron Maiden t-shirt. She was beautiful, even when poorly dressed. My fallen for her was getting serious.

"Quinn... about yesterday..."

"I know we should talk. Today in the terrace?" I noted.

The warning bell rang. I sat in the same chair I was previously. Quinn sat in the row right behind me. The first choir, from Texas, was technically very good, but I believe it made a mistake in choosing the music: Johnny Cash didn't fit well in the format. Meanwhile, Finn, Kurt and Mercedes returned to the auditorium. Finn sat by my side and I avoid to look at Quinn at all costs. Then the Vocal Adrenaline came to the stage and they were perfect as ever, but with a key difference: Sunshine Corazon was a strange presence despite the impressive voice. In a way, I'd rather the robotic and perfect leadership of Jesse and Giselle with Shelby directing them. I really liked the Kennedys Lived (reference to band Dead Kennedys), from Idaho: it was a group with the minimum number of members, like ours, but they were more homogeneous.

Finn held my hand at the time the organization said it would announce the result. The captains and directors awaited on stage while the rest of the members spread among the audience or in the theater hall, where they could watch everything through the internal monitor. Finn and I were there next to Mr. Schue, nervous as ever.

It seemed a deliberate cruelty, but the organization decided to announce the 10th to the 1st, leaving disposed teams on stage until the last name. Five names was announced and nothing about New Directions. North Carolina's choir ranked in sixth. To my surprise, Vocal Adrenaline was announced in fifth place. Their director didn't look happy. The New York group was the fourth and it only increased my nervousness.

"Third place, New Directions, from William McKinley High, Lima, Ohio."

Finn immediately hugged me and lifted me off the floor for the second time that day. We scored 48.2 of 50 and I wanted to kiss my sister so bad. Third among 15 strong teams, what a feat! Mr. Schue received the symbolic "medallion" and we had to leave the stage to continue celebrating. The Kennedys Lived ranked second. The winner of the first round was New Beats, Mason City, Iowa. For me, it was a surprise because I thought the performance with Bruce Springsteen's music was good enough to qualify, but not to win. Seen as a sign that national would bring surprising results in any way.

…

I was eager to get to the hotel to celebrate with all the team and, after that, have my conversation with Quinn. I needed to understand this lopsided relationship. Finn had no idea about my affair, much less that our relationship was on borrowed time. Quinn had that "I'm a big bitch and I'm better than you" kind of look: it was very difficult to interpret what is behind it. Anyway, as soon as Quinn gave me a sign, we would have that roof to our conversation.

"Schuester." One of the jazz boys ran up in the hall. "Problems."

He took us to one of the rooms where some hubbub was happening. We saw Santana, Lauren, Sam and Noah drunk and partially naked playing strip poker against other two guys and two girls from the other choir. There was a considerable crowd around and empty vodka bottles.

"EVERYONE OUT!" Schuester yelled. At the same time, their director arrived not too happy. Less than a minute, the audience left the room. "Clothe yourselves, NOW!" And he turned more discreetly to me. "You better go help your sister while Mercedes and I will help Lauren."

"You won't suspend them, correct?" If students were punished by the tour manager, in case: Mr. Schuster, goodbye competition.

"Santana and others will be punished in some way."

"Maybe this unpleasant incident should stay between us." the other director said while helping her lead singer to get up. "I'm sure that each team can handle with these problems in a proper way."

Santana was really drunk, only in bra and panties. She put the top tank with some difficulty. Brittany and I had to help her put her pants while some helped the other girl, who was only in her panties. The boys didn't seem so bad. Noah appeared to be the most sober of the group of six after Lauren. Santana put her arm around my shoulders and I helped her to get out the room.

"I told you not to play!" Brittany looked tired. "But you never listen to me!"

"I would crash them." Santana spoke with her alcoholic breath. "Schuuu is a party pooper."

"What exactly happened?" I asked Britt as we held Santana.

"They said it was to make peace between the teams. And then to celebrate the rankings."

"And we seal the peace..." Santana said truncated "I just had to show my twins and voila!"

I didn't give opinion. If I spoke anything to my sister, I would swear her until the fifth generation of her future kids. It was better to leave the scolding for later.

"Britt, take some clean clothes in her bag, please?" And I looked at Quinn. "Do you help me to take her in the shower?"

"What? I don't want this to see me naked!" Santana muttered. "This is a failure gay from Narnia." And turned to me as if to tell a secret for everyone hear. "Careful! She wants to get in your pants. I don't want to see her paws on you, Ray... because otherwise I'll have to kick her ass." Santana was winding all "R's" "Heard it, bitch, I'll kick your ass if you get close..."

"You know what?" Quinn opened the bathroom door. "Drunk or not, she's your problem, Rachel. I don't have to hear this kind of shit. Brittany helps you deal with your drunken sister after all... she's used to do that."

I could only imagine how Brittany would be familiarized with this kind of situation. Despite never attending the festivities of the popular kids, I knew Santana sometimes exaggerated because the hang over the day after she slept in Britt's house. She never went home drunk of respect or fear to my parents, especially papa. But since daddy died, she wasn't that concerned anymore, despite the last time I saw her drinking was at our last party.

I was almost undressed my sister, who was collaborating, when Brittany arrived with pajamas, towel, Listerine, aspirin and a bottle of water.

"We need to get her to drink water and take this medicine now." She warned. "She will feel less harm tomorrow."

Even in the shower, Santana was surprisingly cooperative. While the warm water was falling on her body, she took the water and medicines without insistence. Quinn was right: Brittany was accustomed to do that. As soon as Santana came out of the shower, we helped her to wear the clothes. The hair was the last. Finally, Santana made use of Listerine and she looked better, more sober at least, still I through my arm firmly around her waist. The other girls were looking the scene while they wait to help Lauren.

"Today you will sleep here." I sat beside her on my bed of our bunk.

"Good night, Ray... love you." She cuddled the pillow unceremoniously.

"Love you to, Santy."

Quinn wasn't in the room, but Kurt, Mercedes and Tina were around talking about the scene and also keeping an eye if an emergency happens. I was exhausted and drunken Santana was the icing on the cake. I thought about Quinn and I figured maybe she was on the roof, so I decided to check it out. My intuition worked one more time.

"Did you solve the problem with your sister?" Quinn said without even turning to me and I began to hate this. She was sitting just on those nasty sunbeds.

"She is asleep."

"At least Santana made clear her opinion about me. Hypocrite! Whoever sees so even thinks that she is the heterosexual queen."

"She was drunk. And she is bisexual, if you want a more precise definition."

"Drunks tend to be very sincere." Quinn got up and went towards me on that bitch expression locked on her face. I felt trapped. "Do you want to talk now or prefer wait till tomorrow?"

"Now is fine!"

"I'll leave some things clear here, Rachel. I like you, and I want to stay with you. Now I need to know if you really want the same."

"I… I think, maybe… yes?"

"Correct..." She was circling me like a predator. It was as if she was waiting for a response and if I answer correctly, she wouldn't devour me. "I know you want me and it is no use denying." There wasn't point to denial it, so yes, I want her. "The problem is that I'm not good to share, do you understand?" She looked half angry, half serious, and I found it so sexy and terrifying at the same time. "Don't you think you can stay with me and Finn the same way your sister do Brittany and Puck. If you want to stay with me, publicly or not, then you will have to be only with me, and nobody else."

"It's fair."

"Great. So what do you say?"

"I... I... I will... Could you not looks like you will throw a slushie on me anytime? It makes me nervous!" She took two steps back and I breathed a bit. "Thank you. I won't fool you, Quinn: my feelings for Finn is still strong and I don't think it go away in a heartbeat. But I also feel that crazy attraction for you, and I have this anxiety to live something new, a new romance. Having new expectations, do you understand? Here are you offering me just that and I want so much to be yours. But you know I can't break up with Finn, here in New York during the Nationals, when we need to keep our team reasonably united. You have to be patient."

"I understand! I'll give you these days to stay with the big foot for the good of the team. But don't abuse my goodwill. I hate to see you kissing him. It's horrible, Rachel."

"I won't abuse you." I hold her hand then we kissed to seal your agreement. "I think we better go downstairs. The day was long and we need to rest."

She agreed and gave me a peck before we went back to your room. I was so tired…


	19. S2 - New York part 3

**NEW YORK part 3**

**(Rachel)**

Good thing we were third in the first round: the position allowed the New Directions to perform in the second block of the second round, which would start on seven P.M. The primetime was a form to awarding the best of the previous day. Another good thing was that we could sleep all morning. Santana got ill at dawn. She vomited and had to take some more pills and water. I helped her as quietly as possible to not wake up the other girls. Unfortunately Quinn was there watching everything. It seemed she was light sleeper and she woke up with Santana's noises, but I signaled her to continue lying. If she tried to help, maybe Santana would scold her again and I hadn't the heart to bear these things.

"Rachel, I'm not sick anymore!" Santana grumbled. Within a few hours, our team would leave the hotel and go to the theater. I decided to take the time to make my sister drink tea and honey I brought in my luggage.

"I'm not taking care of you, only your throat, or did you forget you will do the high notes today? Oh, of course you forgot! You drank as hell yesterday."

"Alcohol softens the vocal cords."

"If you don't drink this stuff in five minutes, I swear I will cover your nose and shove it right down your throat." After my threat, she drank the tea.

I didn't follow the first block of the playoffs. I understand that under the circumstances it was better to rest and concentrate as best as I could. I was worried for our group showing signs of abating. Noah was silent. He had approached me earlier, explaining to me that he wouldn't let anything happen to Santana. I countered that nothing would happen to her on someone else's bed: only on his. Sam was also embarrassed because of the drunkenness. Mike felt a little discomfort in his calf, Finn was confused because I hadn't allowed him to kiss me on the lips, and Artie seemed about to explode with nervous. We wore our costumes: elegant black and white clothes like that one when we performed "Toxic". Schuester gave us a motivating sermon ten minutes before our entry, but my greatest encouragement had been given when I saw the message on the phone: my father was in the audience. I was so glad that he made it.

Our presentation began with Mike and Brittany dancing into a strong and accelerated beat coming from the pick-ups. They would be a couple in sexy situation. Artie enters the left side of the stage and our Act 2 begins: "_Hey girl/ is he everything you wanted in a man?/ you know i gave you the world/ you had me in the palm of your hand/ so, why the love went away?/ i Just can't seem to understand/ thought it was me and you, baby/ me and you until the end/ but i guess i was wrong._"

Mercedes enter on the other side of the stage to harmonize with Artie. "_Don't wanna think about it/ don't wanna talk about it/ i'm Just sick about it/ i can't believe it's ending this way/ Just so confused about it/ i Just can't do without ya/ tell me is this fair._" Mercedes takes the vocals. "_Is this the way it's really going down? Is this how we say goodbye?/ should've know better/ when you come around/ that you were gonna make me cry/ it's breaking my heart to watch you run around/ cause i know that you're living a lie/ but that's ok baby/ cause in time you Will find_."

And it was our turn to sing with strength even behind the curtains. "_What goes around, goes around, goes around/ comes all the way back around_." After the chorus of Justin Timberlake's song, the curtain rises revealing the New Directions. Mike, Brittany, Mercedes and Artie took up new positions on the stage. The lighting remains purposely low as the audience came down due to a number of sensational and sexy dancing, but tasteful. The new arrangement that the jazz boys made was simply incredible and jazzy

We started to vocalize "Toxic" with some adjustments regarding our first performance in school that ended in an embarrassing way. Instead of Schuester, Noah Puckerman, just because he had what the music requires: sex appeal. The audience kept coming down while I, Noah and Brittany did our solo lines with Santana harmonizing with us all the time. My sister did the high notes with unbelievable precision; neither seemed she spent the day with some hoarseness. Again the audience burst into applause.

We blew at backstage so excited that I even cared to see the New York's team. We barely reminded that downed group in the early afternoon, and we decided to stay together until the organization announces the five finalists. Finn was holding my hand and I've never been so excited in my life. I thought about Quinn and I found her on my left side, next to Tina. She looks at me with a frown and I answered with a smile. I was so hers.

The organizers called the teams: in fifth place was Vocal Adrenaline and once again they didn't leave the stage satisfied. The Lived Kennedys, Idaho, also attended the grand final in fourth place, and that was a good sign for us. Third was the New York's team. The Texan choir recovered from the first day and nailed the second round. There was only room for one more and my heart was almost out of my mouth. I grabbed someone's hand and squeezed – it was Kurt's. When the presenter announced the New Directions, then yes, I was sure that my heart had gone out through the mouth. The whole group hugged and jumped up on stage. How good was winning sometimes.

My fellows celebrated like crazy at the backstage. Amid this confusion, I pulled Quinn into an empty dressing room and closed the door. She leaned me against the wall and we kissed passionately.

…

After many hugs and tears of joy, Santana found me in the midst of so many people and pulled me out to the hall so we could go to meet our father. He had booked a table at Felidia Ristorante, one of the fine Italian restaurants in NYC. When we met him, surprise: Shelby was also there. I exchanged glances with Santana. Not that we didn't like our mother's company, but we weren't expecting her presence in New York. We hugged our father first and then I hugged Shelby. Santana, as always, was colder and just gave a quick kiss on her face, like those Brazilians compliments.

"What are you doing here? Where's Beth?" Santana was little harsh.

"I came to cheer for you." Shelby smiled at me. "And the nigh isn't suitable for a baby, don't you think? Beth stayed at the hotel with my mother."

We ever knew our maternal grandmother, or even heard stories about her. We knew she was alive and lived in Findlay, Ohio, a city near Lima. That was all. I looked at Santana, and she moved her shoulders as a sign of "whatever". We got into the taxi toward 58th street where we observed better the interaction between my father and Shelby, as if they were old friends. Santana crossed her arms and squinted. Something told me that dinner would be remarkable.

The restaurant was wonderful. Besides the traditional Italian food, it still offered a vast menu for vegetarians – not vegans. I had to forego my principles for a night to eat ingredients derived from milk and eggs, but this was the only exception I've being made all these years. The vegetarian lasagna was spectacular and was even better with a nice conversation between me, Shelby and my father.

"Your technique has improved a lot, Santana. I'm proud." Shelby tried to bring my sister to the conversation.

"It's because you didn't see her in our performance yesterday. She was our main player." My compliment was sincere. "We got third in 15 strong teams because of Santana."

"Rachel annoyed me for two weeks to do that damn voice exercises." And that was the first thing that Santana spoke at the table.

"Doing exercises is the key, kid." Shelby said.

"I agree!" I complement. "I even dedicate a few minutes of my day to do this kind of exercise. Sometimes even at breakfast. So my technique is advanced in comparison."

"Why are you here?" Santana cut me off and I stopped eating apprehensive. "I mean, honestly?"

"Santana!" My father warned. "That's not the way you should talk to your mother. She's here as my guest to honor your two and I demand respect."

"Are you having an affair?" She shot and my father thumped the table, calling the attention of others around us. It seemed like everyone stopped breathing.

"If we have, it's none of your business. Didn't you make me sign your emancipation? If legally nothing that you do now is my business, I demand the same rights. Finish. Eating. Now."

We sat in silence and the fit of cutlery on the plate was deafening. It turns out that Santana had a point here. The presence of Shelby itself was no big deal. But the way she interacted with my father showed a considerable degree of intimacy. They played quietly, but they did unnecessary gestures for normal friends, as if they seek any excuse to touch each other.

"Papa." I took courage to speak. "Don't get like I want to meddle your or my mother's life, but if by chance you are... seeing each other... I think Santana and I deserve to know. And if you're here only as friends, I don't see a reason for this war atmosphere."

Shelby, who was beside me, looked at my dad and he breathed with an expression of "I don't believe this is happening." Then he just shrugged his shoulders as a sign of "whatever", just like Santana usually do.

"Your father and I are going out, sometimes, on dates."

That was a standard answer to: we're having sex without compromise for now. It was my turn to be upset. In normal situations, I think any kid would be happy to know that the parents are dating. Our case was very different. My father was widowed five months ago of a man we all love unconditionally. And Shelby, however she was our biological mother, was still almost a stranger in our family life. From my point of view, my father's bed even got cold enough to make him want somebody else right there.

"Please just tell me that we born after an insemination." Santana dropped the bomb and I just closed my eyes waiting for the impact.

My father angrily threw his napkin on the table and went out to get some air. I was sure he would slap Santana if he had stayed at that moment. Shelby looked at my sister, making it clear that she wouldn't allow her to win.

"What can I say, Santana? I think only one egg was fertilized artificially. I had some doubts about the other one because there is a possibility that it was cracked by a sperm after a long run. You know… these things that happen after a delightful love night!" Santana blushed. My face was too hot with rage and shame. Then Shelby put on her angry face. "Juan and I aren't doing anything wrong!" Her voice was firm. "Juan is not cheating Hiram and I know your daddy would want Juan to move on. That's exactly what your father is trying to do. We are responsible and independent adults. Yes, we have generated two daughters in a special situation 18 years ago, but we always had other things in common. I don't need your approve of our relationship, but I hope you respect it."

"He's gay, Corcoran..." After a killer look, Santana corrected herself. "Shelby… mother…"

"Your father is bisexual, much like you, I heard." I swear to God I heard my sister growl. "Again, Santana, I'm an adult and I know where I stand."

"I think we just need to get used to the idea." I said after a long time. "You will agree that this situation hasn't been well introduced."

Our hunger disappeared and Shelby asked for the bill. My father called a cab for me and Santana and he paid it in advance. He ensured that he and Shelby would be watching the grand final and I know he would fulfill his word.

"That's disgusting!" Santana stormed in the cab. "Shelby is dangerous. Didn't papi see it?"

"She is our mother... and perhaps this relationship will be good to our father."

"You're naive, Rachel. I don't buy that story, not in a million years!"

"I just think we have to give the benefit of the doubt to Shelby. She has struggled."

"Struggling in what? Seep into our home because of papi and maybe hook up with for his money?"

"Papa isn't rich! Neither was Daddy. The inheritance he had left for us is enough to pay the college! That's it!"

Santana was silent for the rest of the way. In the hotel, I could see the North Carolina's team was now more at ease. Some of them went out, enjoying a bit of New York's nightlife now it was no longer in the competition. In contrast, the New Directions was collected in concentration. Santana took clean clothes and went straight to the bathroom. She didn't speak to anyone about what happened. Quinn stared at me as if to have a telepathic conversation and I signed for us to talk outside.

"What happened?" Quinn asked as soon as we got to the roof. She was dressed in pajamas and a thick winter coat.

"My mother and papa are dating. Santana freaked out. It wasn't pretty."

"Oh…" She kissed me lightly and hugged me, trying to get me involved by her winter coat.

I let myself enjoy the warm of that beautiful body embracing me.

"Beth is in town?" She asked abruptly.

"Yes, apparently she is the hotel with her grandmother... my grandmother... the one I've never met."

Quinn saw Beth for the last time after a quick visit at Christmas. She was satisfied with the terms established by Shelby for visits, and yes, they were fair. The next meeting with her biological daughter was booked to Beth's one year birthday party. Quinn didn't comment, but I bet that she was more excited by this event than the grand final.

"I'm sorry that your dinner was hard."

"Don't be. It's just… I've never figured that papa could date again so soon. God, they've dating on my and Santana's back!"

"Well, they aren't the only ones…"

"May I ask what that means?" I was still warmed by her arms.

"That we are dating?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. It just isn't official yet, but you are my girlfriend, Rachel Berry-Lopez."

"Yes I will… But first I need to break up with Finn and it won't be so simple."

"Are you sure? Because it seemed simple enough when he broke up with you twice."

"I'm not him."

"You're not. You're better than him and you care. That's why it's hard for you."

"I think its better get back to the room."

Quinn nodded and released me from her arms. I immediately felt emptiness, a desire to run for it again, but I kept my composure back to our room. The grand final wouldn't be easy and I had other things on my mind to absorb.

…

The entire team was nervous about the finals. We stayed in the hotel most of the time until we had to go to the theater. We made a strength circle in the way and all things the guys said that would help. The theater was crowded and it was safe to say that was our greatest audience. Quinn started complaining about her stomach, I was sweating cold, Mike complained again about his calf (he wouldn't have to dance like the second day), Mercedes showed calmness and Santana spent the whole day distracted, without speaking to anyone. I'd be more worried about my sister, but that was the time to shine.

We wore our costumes. All with jeans, converse and T-shirts with rock band's stamps that represent your style and preferences. Mine was Madonna. The order of presentations followed the classification of the previous day, ie, the Vocal Adrenaline would open the performances and we would be the last. As the theater was crowded, we hadn't had reserved seats, but we could watch the other groups in the two cabins reserved by the organization.

Vocal Adrenaline tried a smart move to make a potpourri of themes from James Bond's movies, since Pierce Brosnan was the sworn-celebrity. Again, the voice of Sunshine Corazon was perfect, especially in "Goldfinger", but her presence was strange, even with all the dancing, scenery and clean performance. The applause was strong but not enthusiastic.

Lived Kennedys was the first to perform popular pop-rock. They chose Coldplay and Muse. The reception was almost identical to the Vocal Adrenaline. The New Yorkers made a beautiful arrangement of "No Woman No Cry" who moved between the original version interspersed with Jay Z's songs. They received the first standing ovation. The Texan group also surprised making a country show.

The bell sounded. It was the signal for us to get out the waiting room. The impression I had was a hole in my stomach. After Santana, Mercedes and Artie, the responsibility was now in my hands. The choir stood. Quinn and I purposely stayed last. She held my hand and squeezed it before positioning herself among the others. I smiled. Act 3: rock'n'roll.

The New Directions was presented by the announcer, the curtains parted and I walked in silence till the center of the stage. Still in silence, I walked from side to side, making my performance. The crowd began to get tense with no beginning. Then I started acapella. _"She's got a smile That It seems to me / reminds of childhood memories / where everything was as fresh / as the bright blue sky._" Quinn comes on stage and harmonized with me evolving a small choreography. "_Now and then when i see her face / she takes me away to that special place / and if i stere too long / I'd probably break down and cry._" The others came snapping their fingers and harmonizing while Quinn and I were still making our duet. "_Ohh sweet child o'mine / ohh! Sweet Love of' mine'"_. The choir continued the work of snap my fingers and move while making vocalization arrangements. The audience also began to snap the fingers in rhythm.

Our version was well produced, the lights were perfect and I used to gain confidence after singing the first verse. The choreography had a positive impact. We were the second group of the night to get a standing ovation and it wasn't over yet. The lights got brighter, the band played strong, loud, and we started to jump on stage like a crazy. We hear screams from the audience that recognized the initial riffs of our potpourri. The boys remembered "Should I Stay or Should I Go", Mercedes and the girls sang a few lines of "Cherry Bomb," Puck sang "I Wanna Be Sedated" and then the boys once again sang some lines of Offspring's "The Kids Are not All Right". All the songs involved sex, drugs and the passion of the rock and roll.

The guitar riff moved to the introduction of the last classic. People recognized and roared. I went to front stage when the guitarist strummed. And I sang with all the aggressiveness I had. "_Load up on guns and bring your friends / it's fun to lose and to pretend / she's over bored and self assured / Oh, no, i know a dirty word._"

The band increased the aggressiveness on the beat and we sang with all the energy we had with my voice leading the choir. "_With the lights out it's less dangerous / here we are now entertain us / I feel stupid and contagious / here we are now entertain us / a mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido / Yeah! Yay!_"

I continued to play the best I could in the last sequence. "_And I forget Just why i test / oh yeah, i guess it makes me smile / i found it hard, it's hard to find / oh well, whatever, nevermind._" The team mouthed "_hello, hello, hello, how low_..." Before exploding into the chorus for the last time, screaming at the end "_the denial_". The audience burst into applause and I was sure if the ceiling was lower, it would have one or two hanging on it like crazy. It was so delight to be cheered by the third day in a row. We were technically perfect in the first song and epic chaotic during the following ones.

The jurors had 20 minutes for give the grades and account them. The organization took the time to put a small podium on the stage. Meanwhile, we were isolated at the dressing room. Schuester said a few words of praise, that regardless of the outcome, he was proud of the work and so on. I sat on the couch next to Kurt and Mike and held their hands, remaining still until being advised to go to the stage for the final result.

Pierce Brosnan was in charge of announcing the winners and deliver trophies. In fifth place was the Lived Kennedys. It was more or less what we expected. So the first result slightly challenged by the public: the Texan group just won fourth place and it caused some commotion. In third was Vocal Adrenaline, a bad result for them, but that was still impressive.

That left us and the New York group. I should be happy to have already secured the vice-championship, which would be historic. We made a winning campaign with concept and coherence. We always marked the top three in all stages. It would be our righteousness. Brosnan made suspense, the audience also seemed apprehensive. They would prefer the chaotic and visceral performance, or the full of feelings and urban one?

"The winner is…" More suspense. "The New Directions from Lima, Ohio!" Shouted Brosnan.

Applause, recognition. The underdogs won. I cried. We all cried.

…

Half an hour after the final announcement, when things were calmer, some men began to circulate in the backstage, handing out cards for specific people. A man about his 40's addressed me with a card in hand.

"You were impressive, miss..." He looked at the programming sheet. "Rachel Lopez."

"Berry-Lopez" I corrected him. "And thank you sir..." I read the name on the card. "Roger Benz? Roger Benz, the producer of R & J?"

"So you've heard of us?"

"Of course! You produce the best plays for young adult audience on Broadway."

"That was what the New York Times said. Anyway, we are auditioning for an original play that will test and reveal new faces. If you're interested, the auditions are on Wednesday morning. You can get more details by phone. Ask about the Songbook audition."

"Really?" I was amazed.

"You own a great voice, Rachel Berry-Lopez. You should invest on it."

"Thank you." I was a little perplexed.

As soon as the producer turned his back, Quinn approached.

"Who's the guy?" She asked suspiciously.

"Someone that can change my plans radically."


	20. S2 - Decisions

**DECISIONS**

**(Rachel)**

We did a celebration without alcohol on Saturday. The New Directions went to an Italian Restaurant to celebrate with Schuester and our staff. I tried to stay away as much as possible from Finn and Quinn, on a clear tillage to break up with my boyfriend. But it wasn't just that: the card was burning in the back pocket of my pants: an audition. An audition in New York City for an original musical play wrote by reputable producers. I looked at my fellow Glee Clubbers. The boys were happy. Finn stared at me with a smile of hope that later we would date and celebrate together. Quinn had that annoying indifference expression most of the time and eventually smiled to Kurt and Mercedes' jokes. Sometimes she threw me these fulminating looks as if to say: "be careful because I will get you." I noticed Mike: his forehead was furrowed and he was less discreet of looking at the card, the same that was given to me and Santana – but my sister was too into Brittany to care.

Back to the hotel, I held Mike's arm excusing myself to Tina in order to talk to her boyfriend. We sat on the sofa in the common room and he looked nervous. It was amazing and a shame that I'd never talked with him before to exchange more than three words in private. Mike had always been friends with Santana and Brittany. Not with me.

"You want to stay, don't you?" He looked weird to me. "I mean, to the audition."

"If I say you something, do you swear you won't tell anyone, not even Tina?" I crossed my heart. "I don't want what I want to my life. But what I'm sure I don't want is to be an engineer. This is my father's dream." I smiled awkwardly. "Tina supports me to decide whatever I want to do, but she also doesn't understand that she also unwittingly puts pressure on me to face my father."

"And what do you want right now?"

"Escape. Live my life by my own."

"How?"

"I don't know. Maybe staying in New York would help me to think better about what I want. "

"So... will you try?"

"I'm 18 years old, therefore, I am old enough to make my own decisions. I don't need my parents' permission to stay. Yeah, maybe I will stay and do that audition. Moreover, I wouldn't do it alone in a city like this."

"And if I stay too?"

"Don't you have to go back to Lima?"

"Santana will live in New York and she is emancipated. I'd rather stick with her than go back to Lima. The three of us can make it here. You know, like Dorothy and her fellows walking on the gold path to achieve their goals."

"Do you think it is possible?" He stood up when he saw Tina approaching and cut me off. "Goodnight, Rachel. I will talk to you later."

I couldn't sleep a wink that night only thinking about that damn card. I tried to close my eyes and be quiet for nothing, so I just gave up and put on my robe to go to the common room downstairs. It was the only place that was quiet enough, and still where I could stay and talk to myself without importunes anyone. A group of foreigner students occupied one of the gaming tables in the adjoining room and a couple over the corner was talking and kissing. Nobody cared about me and it's just fine. I sat on that couch thinking about Wednesday and all I needed to, at least, try something out of the lame shows produced by Sandy on Lima, Ohio.

"Hey, my beautiful." I looked at Quinn, who kissed me on the head before sat down beside me.

"My beautiful?" I frowned.

"I can't call you this?"

"It is a good change. But still sounds strange coming from someone who spent years calling me RuPaul, Man-hands, Treasure Trail..."

"It's in the past. Shall we go on?"

"No apology? Showing no regrets for all that slushies you threw in my face?" I tried to tease her, but she didn't get it.

"Do you want me to apologize?" Quinn raised an eyebrow and I was always a bit intimidated by this simple gesture.

"Never mind." I said after thinking well. "Did I wake you?"

"More or less. It's difficult to sleep after what happened today."

"Which part?"

"The Nationals, of course. I did a duet with you! This was a secret wish that I could finally accomplish."

Quinn put her arm around my shoulder and pulled me over. I was doing a list in recent days about the good and bad effects that Quinn had on me. I found a new one: soothing. I cradled myself against her body and I felt more relaxed.

"Rachel?" Quinn nudged me. "Remember what I said on the bus?"

"About New York?"

"About you end up in this city sooner than you expected? I think I catch a little bit of your sixth sense."

"Do you think I should go to the audition?"

"Yes, I do."

"Would you stay with me?"

"I would if I had money. The one I have is enough to pay for lunch at some fast food and that's it. I only can spend the week with you if I slept on the street and ate leftovers in landfills. So I have to go back to Lima. You are the one who has a bright future here. Don't you know it?" Her tone was hard, but it was possible to identify a trace of emotion that she was holding.

"And if I pay your expenses?"

"Living at your expense?" Quinn took a buck. "Negative." She said mandatory, proudly.

"What If I loan you some money? I don't have much, but maybe we could make it. We can share a hamburger: you eat the meet, I eat the tomato and we share the bread." Quinn laughed. What an adorable sound. "Don't you think it worth the attempt? Maybe I can get the part and you some job. We can finish high school here in New York and live with Santana, maybe Mike…"

"This is the craziest idea I've heard, and the reality can be cruel, Rachel. Santana has arranged everything to live here. We don't. If things don't work out, we could get hurt badly. "

"But if it works out? Don't you think it's worth the risk?"

Quinn was silent and hugged me tighter. She kissed my head and I felt her hot breath on my face.

"The truth is: I don't have much to lose in Lima or in life. The only person holding me in the city is my mother. But if she gives me her blessing, I would take the road with you."

"Stay with me then."

"We'll see."

…

While all the girls were packing to go back to Lima, I only made my bag because I needed to leave the hotel. Quinn sometimes looked at me with concern. I learned she could be proud about money, but I felt that she wanted to venture. Santana said nothing. I think that the offer didn't interest her. In contrast, she kept looking in my direction.

"Ok, shorty." Santana broke the ice. "What the hell is happening?"

"Don't you consider going to the audition on Wednesday?" I tried to speak as quietly as possible to not draw attention to Mercedes and Tina. "You also were called, and Mike, for a great opportunity in New York City!"

"I knew it!" She said more to herself and then looked at me. "I'm going to move whatever I have or not an audition. And this is a career you want to follow, not me..."

"I've never done an audition outside Lima and those are known producers who invited us. They aren't these people that are part of a dirty prostitution network recruiting new girls on a choir competition. Incidentally, I asked Shelby about this company and she said it was serious. The guys liked to risk with new actors, because it's a cheap alternative for them."

Santana sighed and looked at the floor as if preparing irrefutable arguments.

"I would go!" Mercedes shot. "If I had been called, I wouldn't miss the chance."

"I wouldn't." Brittany replied and surprised us. "I'm going to L.A to dance, not acting. An audition says nothing to me for now."

"Then it would be just me, Mike and ..." I stared Quinn, expecting some manifestation of her.

"I would stay." She finally said. "I know I wasn't invited by the producer, but would like to try something new since I have nothing more to lose. The problem is: I have no money."

"Neither us." Santana categorized and I tried to protest, but she didn't let me argue. "Hobbit, we don't have money enough to stay in this expensive town until Wednesday and you know the rules."

"Rules?" Quinn asked.

"It's not your buss..." Santana began to speak, but I just tried to cut her as faster as I could.

"As you know, my dads have always given me full support and never spared money to help my artistic career. But if I want to leave home in search of my goals before finishing college, I can't count on their sponsorship. Daddy would be more flexible in this situation, I think, but papi won't! Especially now, that Santana is leaving."

"Do you ever hear about credit card?" Tina questioned. "You can pay to stay two or three days in a student hostel, which is cheaper, and buy a train ticket back to Lima just in time. It's not a big deal."

"Our credit card limit is a joke and Santana is the one to blame. She, twice, made a fortune in debts and our dads cut the limit." My sister rolled her eyes. "We only have enough credit for the car's petrol and for minor emergencies."

"So that's why Santana is so obsessed with credit card limits of the guys in school. It's for the free meals." Quinn provoked and I honestly wanted to fight her. Why poke the dragon?

"It's better than survive by favors with your alcoholic mother, who was dropped by her husband that prefers whores with tattoos!"

What happened in the following minutes was an outcry in the room. Quinn pushed hard Santana, who hit her back on the ladder of the bunk. My sister didn't have time to recover from the initial shock when Quinn slapped her with all will she ever had. But my sister fought back and pushed Quinn to slap her with her flying and heavy left hand (Santana is left-handed). Quinn lost her balance and Santana took the chance to kick and throw her on the floor. Santana would have punched my girlfriend right there if Tina and Brittany hadn't caught her from behind and stripped her from the room. Quinn tried to fight back, but Mercedes and I held her.

"What is happening here?" Mr. Schue appeared in our room.

"We've already controlled the situation" Mercedes said and closed the door.

Meanwhile, Kurt rushed into the room, wondering if Quinn was well after learning that "Satan" showed up again. He and Mercedes sat beside her, comforting my girlfriend with reassuring words. I stayed stand without knowing what to do. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to apologize for my sister and say that everything would be fine.

"Kurt. Mercedes. Could you excuse us? I need to talk with Rachel."

"Come on, girl. You won't be alone here."

"I need to talk to Rachel alone." Quinn strengthened.

"Ok." Kurt resigned. "Shout if you need something."

Without those two, I took courage, knelt forward and took her hand. Quinn held strong at first contact. To my surprise, she stroked my hair before leaning in to kiss me lightly on the lips.

"Quinn... I want..."

"If you apologize for Santana, I will get very angry. You don't need to justify her actions."

"Sometimes I need."

"I'm staying with you!" She said with some anger in her voice and fire in her eyes. "I don't know how we will get the money, but I'm staying with you in New York, I will study and find a job to pay the rent, whatever. If this is the opportunity to get out of Lima and we still stay together, I'll take my chances. If I win, I swear I'll rub it in your sister face, and my father's and who else doubted me."

I stand up with a huge smile on my face. I couldn't be happier with it. Quinn, still holding one of my hands, pulled me again, this time to sit on her lap. She put her arm around my waist to kiss me. We were so lost in the sense of pleasure that I only came back to reality when we the bedroom door slam. Santana was there and I wanted to die. Incidentally, I was sure she was going to kill me.

"Well, well, well… I noticed you were too much closer these days." she said quietly frightening while closed the door. "I don't know if I celebrate your cheating on that idiot, again, or if I want to slap some sense on you for choose so poorly." She crossed her arms. "Can you get out of her lap?"

I obeyed automatically. I was panicking at being surprised. Our friends open the door abruptly, afraid that "the beast" could be fighting again. Quinn stood determined.

"You could get out of here? I need to talk with Rachel and Santana."

"But Quinn..." Tina almost begged.

"Now!" She said with her the best HBIC tone that made raise the hair of my arms. Our friends obeyed, except Britt, who only left after Santana sight to her. As soon as Britt closed the door, I found myself trapped in a cage in the middle of the lion and the dragon.

Quinn stood up next to me and held out her hand. It was a challenging to me to accept, in front of my sister, a relationship with her. I was shaking like crazy, but I was strong enough to grabbed Quinn's hand and closed my eyes waiting for the impact of the bomb. But all I heard was dead silence until the Santana broke it.

"Since when this atrocity is happening?" She spoke through gritted teeth.

"It's none of your business, Satan." Quinn also wasn't easy and it was harsh.

"Of course it is. It's my sister you're trying to fuck and then dry her life as you do with all your lovers."

"Look..." Quinn threatened and I had to intervene or things would get ugly. So I got myself between the lion Fabray and the dragon Berry-Lopez.

"Please stop!" I screamed and saw that I gained some advantage. "Santana, Quinn and I are starting a relationship and I would be grateful if you don't meddle on our life. I will break up with Finn as soon as possible so Quinn and I can live this relationship in peace. And Quinn, count to ten and breathe. You won't like to hear this, but Santana is one of the most important people in my life. She is not easy, I know, but she's my person, as Meredith Grey says to Cristina Yang, and I would be glad if you respect that. Finn never did."

The two stepped back and crossed their arms at the same time.

"You didn't enter the room only to give the blatant." Quinn said still armed.

"No." Santana looked away from me. "I know how we can spend the whole week in New York."

"How? We barely have money to pay a hostel daily rate." I said.

"I can use some of daddy's money..."

"No way, Santy!" I was nervous. "I won't let you spend your savings because of it. I would rather go back to Lima."

"It's my money and I spent it as I want. Besides, this situation won't dry all of it... The problem is, as you know, that it is not available in my account because of the ongoing process of emancipation. I still have to submit the documents and all the paperwork... But what I can do right now is borrow some to Mr. Weiz and pay for it in a few weeks. I can also pay with work, since Weiz offered me an internship at his company."

"I will only agree if this debt is mine." I crossed arms. "I'll pay you every penny of it."

"And I promise you I will pay all my expense as soon as I can." Quinn also accepted the compromise.

"As you wish." Santana was indifferent to Quinn.

"This will get us in a hell trouble with papi!"

"It won't be my first." My sister smilled.

Santana picked up the phone and spent less than ten minutes dealing objectively with Mr. Weiz, who she was well acquainted, but not me. She borrowed an amount that would be enough to me, her and Quinn spend the whole week with a little squeeze, according to Santana's calculations. I didn't care about luxuries. I just wanted to show Quinn that she could also have a better fate than stay in Lima loser hidden in the closet. Santana's insinuations helped her to take this decision for sure. In this case, I'm glad.

The next step was to communicate to our parents. My papa freaked out, but finally resigned after a while. He, however, reinforced the promise that he wouldn't help us with any penny and we were by our own. Judy Fabray didn't seen any problems to let Quinn stay in New York. She pointed out that she couldn't afford to help her daughter. The pension she received from Russell Fabray was ridiculous and barely enough to pay regular expenses and groceries. Mike was thrilled with our decision and he accompanied us.

Finn was the one who not accepted it.

"You can't be alone here, Rachel."

"I'll be with Mike, Quinn and Santana. Far from being alone!"

"Santana is irresponsible, Mike is naive and Quinn can't even protect herself."

"Who are you to talk like that to them?" I crossed my arms and climbed the tone. "If you really loved me, you'd be supporting my decision."

"I'm not supporting you because I love you. Broadway isn't going anywhere and it will happen one way or another. Just believe on your talent. But you should be patient and not try to run over things."

"It's just an audition, a week experience and I will be back to Lima and to school on Monday. My decision was made!" I put my hands on his shoulders. "You better go."

"What if I stay with you?"

"I don't want it."

"Excuse me?"

"What I want is that you go back to Lima and have the hero reception you deserve. What I want is that you find your own success and dreams wherever it will be. What I want is to you be happy. But what I don't want is you staying here with me."

"Wait… Are you breaking up with me?" he was nervous, like the way he did before kick some chair.

"Yes, I am" I sighed.

"Why?"

"Because I think it's better if we stay apart. I'm experiencing different things right now, maybe I will move to New York with my sister, and… and…"

"And what, Rachel?"

"And I fell for somebody else." Then, the bomb was dropped.

"This is bullshit." He was so hurt and I couldn't deal well with that. I couldn't hold my tears anymore. "This is bullshit, Rachel. We are endgame!"

"Just go!" I was fighting to not crying to hard. "We can talk better next week, but now, just go."

I saw Santana kissing Brittany goodbye. Mike did the same to Tina. Quinn hugged her friends. I stayed apart, behind, to hurt to say goodbye. But I knew that I had to take the opportunity when it knocked on my door. The New Directions took the train back to Lima without four members the day after being national champion for the first time. That was the end of an era.


	21. S2 - Youth in NYC

**YOUTH IN NYC**

**(Rachel)**

The money that Mike had in his pocket was to feed him for a few days and his credit card hadn't had a ridiculous limit. As long as his dad didn't cut it, everything was going to be fine for his side. Much like him, I, Santana and Quinn would have our meals in cheap places and get around the city by subway or maybe by bus, especially to go to The Flea, the off-off-Broadway theater where auditions would take place. If Santana's calculus were right (usually they are) the money we asked to Mr. Weiz would be enough for our expenses and, perhaps, some would leave for a little fun.

Before all that, we had to take the money in Lenox Hill, in a luxurious apartment overlooking Central Park. It was where Caleb Weiz lived, the Jewish businessman and zaide's friend. I just saw him once at a party at my grandparents' house in Cleveland. Caleb Weiz articulated Santana's admission test for Stuyvesant and offered her an internship at his company. I heard he had several houses and apartments in New York City and other major cities around the country. Santana said he owned about 80 and had his own realtor just to take care of these goods. Weiz was also widowed, and his sons died without leaving grandchildren to inherit all these money and power. Poor old man, he must be lonely.

First there was the debate of who should accompany my sister on his place. As we haven't reached a conclusion, the four of us would walk together. First we check out in the hotel and then we walked from Harlem to Lenox Hill caring ours bags and backpacks. I didn't blame when the doorman treated to kick us out from that luxurious building: we looked like beggars. But Santana made the doorman called to Weiz showing her cell phone display.

"If I call Mr. Weiz, you are fucked. But if you call him and announce Santana Berry-Lopez, you will keep your damn job. Your choice."

The guy called and turned pale with fear when Mr. Weiz authorized our entry immediately. A man, who appeared to be 50 years old, answered the door. That was "Jeeves", as Santana called him, but I didn't think that was his real name. He must be Weiz's valet or something like that. We entered that huge apartment and waited on the sofas for a short time until the business man received us accompanied by a much younger girl, who must have been about 30. Weiz was an old man with no family, but apparently he and his money attract young girlfriends. Not that I was on position to judge.

"If it isn't the future Joel Berry's company president!" Santana greeted with a handshake and a wide smile. "And little Rachel grow up and became a beautiful young lady." He looked at the others. "I didn't expect you two to be accompanied by friends, but you're all welcomed."

"These are Quinn Fabray and Mike Chang, our friends from school. Guys, this is one of my grandpa's best friend, Caleb Weiz, the one who will save us." Santana introduced them.

"What a charming lady." Caleb was very gallant. "And this is Lisa, a great friend of mine." The beautiful and friendly woman greeted us one by one, and then she sat down and didn't spoke anymore.

"Let me see if I understood correctly: you're going to audition for a musical play?" Weiz asked as Jeeves offered us water.

"Mike and Rachel will. Quinn and I are here just for moral support. My summer will be quite busy at Stuyvesant... and working at Weiz Co. I won't have time to this kind of thing." I found strange that Weiz was only talking to Santana.

"I know you are smart and clever, but you should allow yourself to have a little leisure, Santana. Life experience is critical in business. Don't try too hard, not when you're already a natural."

"It's not part of my plans to sink on my studies to the point of not having a social life, sir. But I have to make an exception this summer because of Stuyvesant if I want to graduate next year. For next summer, I am planning to spend a month traveling around the country with my backpack before starting college. My first stop will be California, for sure."

"A wise decision. I remember I took a free year before going to Harvard. It was the late fifties, I was young and avid to live new experiences. I spent a few months knowing our country by hitchhiking. I worked as an assistant on a farm, as a barman, cutting grasses, parking cars… I consider that trip as an essential moment for the formation of my character. It worth doing things like that before embraces some destinations for real. Still, Harvard was part of the best years of my life."

"Harvard is one of the best places in the world." My sister smirked.

"Exactly!"

We watched Mr. Weiz talking about business with Santana throughout our stay, including the time that he offered a (delicious) dinner made by his cook. I got the reason of why my sister started reading Wall Street Journal and The Economist in the Internet after daddy's death. For my part, knowing that we wouldn't have such a good meal for the next three days, I took it. Mike also ate like there was no tomorrow. Quinn was quieter. I noticed that she was looking at the photographs on the wall of the dining room.

"You have a nice collection, sir." Quinn pointed to the pictures.

"Indeed. Some people invest in paintings. Well, I have some investments in paintings too, but what I really like is good photographers. These photos are from the original negative." He pointed to one of the pictures, a black-and-white one of a muscular man jumping in the air with open arms, knees bent. He looked like a bird. "That was one of my favorites by Aaron Siskind. He always gives me the feeling that the man becomes more powerful and sovereign when he is free. Did you know Siskind's work?" Quinn made a negative sign.

"I just like to shoot. Unfortunately I never stopped to search for other photographers as I would like to do."

"Are you talented?"

"I'm not the one to judge. But I like the things I do."

"Good answer." Mr. Weiz got up and went to another room. He came back with a book in hand and handed it to Quinn. "I have some copies of this one. It shows the work of some of the most important photographers of New York. It's yours..."

"Thank you!" She seemed surprised by this. We all were.

"If you have one of those websites with your photos, leave the address. I would like to see what you can do."

Mr. Weiz handed out the money in doing a thousand recommendations to Santana. He was talking to her as her boss or something, which made me uncomfortable. The worst thing is that she seemed to accept it. Weiz wished good luck for us and did a favor paying the cab to the hostel. The way we were, without much money, we would never refuse charities like this.

When we got to the hostel in the Bronx, Santana asked a room where the four of us could be together, preferably with four beds. We were offered the "green room," which of course, had the walls painted green, except one that had a large regular colorful mosaic. It wasn't a masterpiece, but it was still interesting. The green room was much smaller than that one we occupied at the hotel in Harlem: it had two bunks, but the space left was narrow and cramped. At least we were in possession of the key since we were in one group. The bathrooms (male and female) were a problem: two per floor for collective use.

I called my dad to say we were fine. He had just arrived from the airport and still showed no signs of conformity with our decision. He felt betrayed again.

"Are you busy with the book?" It was amazing how she always had a book with her. Not infrequently, she despised some interesting discussions on the choir room because she was too entertained with her books.

"Come here!" She pulled up right in bed to make room for me, and then we cuddled when I lay beside. "Sleep with me tonight?"

"Don't think we're going too fast?" I joked.

"There are no risks with your sister sleeping right there. Especially today that I had the displeasure of experiencing her heavy hand... again."

"While it is tempting, Miss Fabray, I will refuse. I'm not that easy."

"But until it comes time to sleep and Santana doesn't leave the bathroom..."

…

Living a single life in New York with little money in the pocket wasn't as exciting experience as I imagined. Do the laundry, for example. At home, the machines require electricity and water to work. There is an entire infrastructure in place: the cleaning products, baskets, clothesline. There are the entire basement space you can use to separate the clothes, not to mention the time in favor. You put the clothes in, turn on the machine, and forget. You can go to a class, do schoolwork, watch a movie, eat something and then remember the clothes.

Public laundries are different. People carry cups of coins because those things only work for a certain time if they are powered by them. If you don't bring your own cleaning products, you will have to buy some and pay the abusive price of the market next door whose owner survives exploring forgotten and desperate people.

Look at our case: we would wash the clothes only once and it would be a waste to buy a box of soap powder. However, we could get a bit with other people, at least I believed on this. But I found out that you can't rely on the people's goodwill in a public laundry, unless you show the coins. Only with then was possible to have a bit of soap (but not the softener). Sure, we didn't think to bring plastic baskets to New York. As we had no resources, we use our own bags. In case: two were used to transport clothes of four. One machine couldn't cope with our demand, it was necessary two of them which was right there waiting me to fill its bellies with coins, and then give even more coins to the dryer. Yes, that was my first time on a public laundry.

You can't have the luxury of occupying space to separate the clothes. This should have been done in the hostel room, but nobody thought about it until we got there. When I saw myself working alone, I pressed the "fuck it" botton and mixed dark clothes with the light ones, and with panties and bras and boxes. And I just prayed that the clothes would not get so stained at the end of the process. Another thing: you can't drop the clothes and forget about them for two hours as you could do at home. You need to stay and wait. Meanwhile, you could interact with strange guys, like that one with slick hair smelling marijuana who just put his clothes on the next door machine. My stomach lurched as I imagined that my nice clothes were in the same place that his ones could be once.

"New in town?" The pothead sat next to me and revealed his yellow teeth, however perfectly lined, as if he had used dental appliance when he was a kid.

What could you say when you have two bags beneath your feet? I looked around to see who if I could shout in case of an emergency. Maybe the pothead could be a crazy psycho stalker who wants to take my virginity and then dismember me and bury me in the basement of that same laundry. Quinn was distracted taking pictures in the street and Mike stayed in the hostel room talking with Tina on his cell phone. Santana was out exploring the neighborhood and the lady that sold me the soap was already gone. It was just me and the pothead. God help me.

"I'm just passing by!" I answered quietly, wishing him to get away.

"I'm Johnny." The greasy reached out.

"Rachel." I dismissed compliance.

"So Rachel…" I swear he was sniffing me. "Are you alone? You look too young to be alone in this city."

"No. The blonde taking photos across the street is my girlfriend." My heart jumped for a second. That was the first time I publicly called Quinn as my girlfriend. Too bad it was on an unusual situation. What a waste.

"Oh!" And he put a dirty smile. The guy didn't even bother to hide that his dirty fantasies just come to mind. Disgusting.

If that weren't enough negotiate soap powder, tolerate potheads with dirty mind was so much worse. Then, I realized I made a mistake as soon as the washing machine stopped: I had any softener to put on the clothes.

"Hey, Rachel." Santana arrived holding a whole paper with scribbling notes. "I found three nearby restaurants that meet our economic needs..."

"Another girlfriend?" Johnny showed again his yellow teeth. Santana narrowed her eyes at him.

"No, she's my sister. And you are… a beggar version of Jesus Christ?"

"Johnny." He reached out to Santana, who just looked and ignored. Johnny seemed more intimidated. Santana had the ability to produce that effect on people.

"Anyway..." She showed me the scribbles. "I found a diner on the next block which floor is a mess, but they serve salads. There is another one three blocks west which menu is a little better, but the waitress is a bitch and I'm sure she and the cook spit in food. Maybe the kitchen has cockroaches. The third one is down the street and is under reform. They are offering omelets with a little cement. Of course we can always pass the grocery store and buy instant noodles!"

"Dirty ground, spited food, salad with cement or noodles, how many choices!"

"We can try salad with cement today, tomorrow we can go to the dirty ground, and then buy instant noodles after our stomachache go away."

"Why are you dismissed the spited food?"

"Because I'm sure that I would slap the waitress and I don't want to get sue."

"Cool!" Johnny was definitely having fun with us. "There's a diner about two blocks north. The place is clean, the food is good and cheap. You should take a look there. I bet it is definitely better than eating cement." We looked at him with a question mark in our face. How could we trust a stoner in a laundry? "I've been living in this neighborhood for some time and, believe me, I like to eat something healthy. The diner is very simple, but it's really good. It would pass on an inspection of health monitoring."

"Thank you. Really!" I began to think that this Johnny wasn't disgusting at all.

The washing was completed. Now all that remained was dry and spend another half hour on that laundry. I started working on the clothes and this time Santana was helping. By that time, Mike came to be with us.

"Where's the softener? Our clothes will get tough." Santana complained.

"I have sheets of softener here!" Johnny showed the package.

"But I have no extras coins." Then I had to explain the situation to my sister. "I pay one dryer to a girl in exchange to some soap powder."

"In this case." Johnny grinned. "I give you six sheets if you kiss your girlfriend in front of me."

"QUINN!" Santana yelled from the laundry room door. "Come here to be useful at least once!"

I always suspected that my sister was meant to be a pimp. I never imagined, however, that she would start her career exploring me because of a softener.

…

Our first experience as young people with little money in a metropolis taught us the importance to know how to plan an interesting cultural tour that cost equally little. We wouldn't stand to stay confined in the hostel, watching television and playing cards when the best city in the world was at our fingertips. And I'm sure we would kill each other. Santana and Mike searched in the internet for theater pages, indie shows, cultural options in general. With a little patience we were making a list of interesting options that we could use.

Broadway theaters were out of scope, the off-Broadway's as well, but it had some cheap sessions in the off-off-Broadway. We include more options in our list and had some other activities such museums, The Central Park and the famous streets. Santana and I did the conventional tourist route on previous occasions we were in New York, but everything was new for Mike and Quinn. Put on the list what we find most interesting. The curious thing is that even with our limited options, we wouldn't give account to fulfill in a week what we put on the paper. I just loved this city.

I know many cities and some countries. My dads were concerned to show the world to me and Santana, but in a comfortable way: we had good accommodations, money to eat at good restaurants. I discovered that the other side also had the grace and magic, especially in the company of you loved the most. The best thing about this story is that my mind was busy. It helped me to deal with this crazy anxiety for the auditions.

"Oh, look who I found!" Johnny met us in the hostel. He was carrying a ladder and wearing an old t-shirt stained with ink.

"Johnny…" I felt my face burn with shame just remembering the kiss that Quinn and I shared in front of him. But we had lunch at the diner he recommended and it really dead on his description: good food, cheap and clean.

"What are you doing here?" My sister, as always, was less subtle. "Do you work here?"

"Oh, no! I am just doing a job. The owner is a friend of mine, and he asked me time to time to give a renewed on the painting in some rooms. This time it was the blue one."

"You painted the mosaic in the green room?" Mike asked and Johnny nodded. "Cool. It was pretty cool."

"So you're a painter?" Quinn said.

"Not exactly. I usually work in the tattoo studio, but sometimes I do some small jobs for some extra money... anyway... how are you enjoying the city?"

"Well... we try to have fun as much as possible." Mike replied.

"Tourist map or something more local?"

"Tourist map." I confessed.

"Well guys, if you want to do something different, more local, friends of mine are doing a gig tomorrow night. Their music is cool and the pub is very nice. It's not a mess or dirty at least. Do you want to go?"

"They allow guests under 18?" Quinn asked in a suspicious tone.

"No, but I can get you in without false IDs. I've done some work as a roadie for this band and I have free access. If you wish, I can pick you all up tomorrow." He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, so wrote something and handed it to Santana, who seemed to be our leader. It was just his phone number. "Call me."

…

I woke up that Wednesday feeling many things: anxiety, fear, anguish and also pain. My body was quite sore from all the walking we'd done on the previous days. The night before, we accept to go to the gig in the pub that Johnny (who was a good guy, after all) was a close friend of the band in question. He facilitated our entry and the drinks (Mike was 18 and could enter the pub through the front door, but he followed us). Santana and Mike drank in moderation and it seemed that our Asian friend, always so serious and shy in the choir, was loosening. Mike made out with an older woman with purple hair. I think he wanted go to her place to have sex, but we were around and together, so he stayed. Santana drank a few cups of beer and enjoyed the show. I also drank a cup of beer and Quinn's eyes widened when she saw me put the cold liquid down my throat.

"I didn't know you like to drink beer." She screamed in my ear at the time because of the loud sound of the band, very good one by the way.

"I don't drink too much." I shouted back. "This is my limit." Quinn had seen me drunk once at that small party Santana promoted back home. That was the first time I got drunk in my life, by the way. I think she thought that this was an isolated incident.

"Who introduced you into this?" I simply pointed to my sister who was dancing beside Johnny with a cup of beer in hand. "Of course!"

I was a nice girl: didn't smoke, drank a little, and didn't use drugs. You know: good girl, but not that boring religious kind. My daddy always said to know our limits and respect them. That's it! But Quinn could be further prude. I actually thought she was going to exorcise a woman who had just taken some pills with liquor and started dancing like crazy right in front of us. This wasn't news to me, I had seen much worse things in the Reading Festival. The difference was in the space and the amount of people. Quinn was familiar with drunk guys smoking pot at parties of the popular kids in Lima. I think the craziness of high school students didn't compare. I saw Santana and Mike amused. I tried to live the experience. Quinn wasn't at ease. She didn't relax even when we kissed in public for the second time. I think she thought that pub was dangerous and couldn't seize the moment.

We came back at dawn and went straight to the bed, except Quinn, who still had the ability and courage to take a bath. Santana and I (and maybe Mike) just took off our shoes to sleep. Good thing that the auditions would happen in the late morning.

I woke up with the alarm cell. My body was sore. My calves burned because the daily long walks. I was so tired. Mike and Quinn weren't in the room and it looked like Santana wouldn't wake up soon. I took clean clothes and went to the bathroom. In my suitcase had no soap powder or softener, but it surely had shampoo and conditioner: things that I would never miss. I took a shower, washed my hair, brushed my teeth. When I got out, Santana was in the line in front of the bathroom, waiting for her turn. I went to the community hall of the hostel, where I met Quinn having breakfast at a table. Apparently she had bought a box of orange juice and a packet of toast.

"Much better." She smiled when I gave her a good morning kiss.

"What?" I took a disposable cup and serve me with some juice.

"Your breath is so much better now without that taste of cheap beer."

"Do you leave early to buy this banquet?" Of course I return the sarcasm.

"I've been awake for a while. I tried to wait for you, but you were dead to the world, and your clothes smelled cigarettes."

"I'm sorry. We shouldn't have gone to the pub. I noticed that you weren't comfortable."

"You all were having fun and I'm not a party poop. And I found quite respectful that Santana and Mike drank moderately, and so as that Johnny guy." Then she stared at me. "You surprised me, however. I've never thought that, of all people, you could accept invitations from strangers and enjoy noisy pubs."

"Although I'm an admirer of the superior artistic manifestations, such as theater, classical music, ballet and opera. Besides, of course, being a big fan of the great Broadway musicals. Not to mention jazz. It doesn't mean that I can't allow myself to experience different environments. It's healthy to be open to new things, Quinn."

"Well. Would you try drugs to have a new experience?"

"Of course not! Don't distort my words. I'm talking about new experiences, not dangerous new experiences that could drag you to a dark and terrible place."

"Interesting..." She brought her face closer. "Does that mean you're open to experiencing new things like, for example... make love to me?" I felt my cheeks burn.

"Certainly I would... one day... well..." My embarrassment caused a belly laugh on Quinn, those that I haven't seen her doing for a long time. Or perhaps never. "Do you want... to make love to me?" I asked quietly.

"Yes!" She looked me straight in the eye. Quinn's voice got heavier, almost hoarse. "But I am aware of your convictions, I know our relationship just started, and I promise I'll wait until you're ready."

"Quinn, feel free to not answer. It's that you never told to me..." I looked at my nails. "How long have you liking me?"

"The day I realized that I liked you was the same one I shot slushie in your face and called you RuPaul for the first time."

"That was ..."

"On our freshman year, yes." I didn't want to express puzzlement, but, that was a long time for somebody stifling itself. No wonder Quinn acted so aggressively.

"I guess the fact that you are Russell Fabray's daughter and the school queen bee must be the reasons for the torture I suffered all this time."

"All this, and the fact I spent a long time fighting my sexuality. I was so angry and frustrated by being in love with this beautiful Jewish girl with amazing legs, perfect voice, and that I thought she was straight as hell. Not to mention that her twin sister was my main opponent in school. Rachel, my path wasn't easy."

"What motivated you to kiss me in the Regionals if you thought I was straight?"

"It had to do with that time we spent composing 'Get it Right'. That week we worked on the song together, I heard a conversation between Santana and Brittany about you and a girl in London. Jealousy took the best of me, that's why we had that fight." Now I understand why, out of nowhere, Quinn told me those petty things in the auditorium. "But it showed me that you weren't as straight as I thought and I had chances."

"I didn't feel attraction to girls until Laura. And I didn't think that was relevant until you. Laura was important to me. She helped me to open my mind." Then something crossed my mind, a sudden curiosity. "Have you ever been with any girl before me?"

"I... I... let's say I had someone who taught me... how to…"

Our conversation was interrupted by Mike, who was caring a paper bag and had a sheepish grin on his face. He wished good day and put on the table individual pots of jam, bun, another box of orange juice, instant noodles, four donuts and a small package of vegan chocolates. Quinn plastered a smile and took one of the donuts.

"No more misery!" He said.

"I love it when someone try to bribe me." Quinn took a bite of the donuts and murmured satisfied.

"I don't know what you talking about." Mike sat beside me.

"Vegan Chocolate? Mike, this is almost a begging for your little adventure in the pub doesn't reach Tina's ears."

"It will stay between us, right?" God! Mike seemed so desperate for our silence.

"As someone once told me: 'what happen in New York, stay in New York.'"

"Stealing my lines now, Smurfette?" Santana surprised us and sat next to Quinn. "How much cost all of these?"

"Don't worry, Santana." Mike said quietly. "I paid with my credit card."

"In this case..." She smiled and took a donut.


End file.
